


but you're somebody else (only it ain't on the surface)

by cuecard, youplusmeisbadnews



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Bodyguard AU, F/F, Pining, Rated M in later chapters, Slow Burn, Some angst, bodyguard becky, ceo charlotte, lots of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-02-08 06:16:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 109,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21471397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuecard/pseuds/cuecard, https://archiveofourown.org/users/youplusmeisbadnews/pseuds/youplusmeisbadnews
Summary: Wishes don’t always come true in the way that you think they will. Nothing is ever going to be perfect because nothing ever is, but love will come because it always does.There isn’t any other reason for it to exist.
Relationships: Charlotte/Becky Lynch | Rebecca Knox
Comments: 271
Kudos: 232





	1. heaven knows i'm miserable now

**Author's Note:**

> I'm baaaackkk... 
> 
> Thanks to Suzy for helping me write this, and dealing with my two million break downs (thus far) over it.
> 
> And thanks to Echo for the original idea otherwise this fic would literally not exist, you can find her on tumblr: rebel-with-a-c4use :) 
> 
> Title of the fic comes from Flora Cash - You're Somebody Else. You should all listen to it to get a feel for this story!
> 
> Also, feel free to come and talk to me on tumbr: borntorunnn

* * *

_ Charlotte eyes the amber liquid and the golden hint of the ice cubes. She pokes them with her nail to hear them clink together against the glass and she watches as they float back up to the surface but remain half submerged like tiny icebergs. Wrapping her fingers around the glass, she feels the cold seep into her skin, and she feels her eyes blur over and she feels the wet press of tears against her skin. Her eyes flicker back towards the sports news report that’s currently breaking across the large tv on her wall. _

_ “The San Francisco Royals were today dealt the most crushing blow in the club’s history when a sporting tribunal ordered the club to be stripped of their recent Championship win and forced to start next season with a 30 point deduction.” _

_ “Several Royals executives, including owner Ric Flair, have been accused of arranging and bribing amenable referees and assistants to officiate at games involving the club.” _

_ “Flair, who is expected to resign as CEO of the Royals with immediate effect, has called the decision a disgrace. He said: The 30-point deduction is not acceptable. It is a disgrace. We thought we would get a more balanced verdict and we were obviously wrong to trust these judges. The Royals will appeal against the verdict, we want to safeguard our fans and shareholders -"  
_

_ Charlotte switches the tv off with the remote and takes a large gulp of the drink in her hand, feeling the keen burn on her tongue and at the back of her throat – a burn that usually makes her recoil instinctively but not right now. She lowers the glass to the table, letting it go heavily, but not so heavily that any of it spills over. _

_ “Sweetheart -" _

_ “Don’t sweetheart me, Tyler. In fact, just don’t say anything because I don’t want to hear it right now.” _

_ “We need to act fast, Charlotte. You know –"  
_

_ “I know that this club has been in my life for the last twelve years and I can’t believe my father would do something so stupid!” Charlotte lets out a staggered breath and walks towards the window of her apartment: the city below sprawls out like a concrete jungle. “Did you know?” _

_ “I didn’t –"  
_

_ “Don’t bullshit me. You’ve been my father’s right hand man for 10 years, I know he tells you pretty much everything. More to the point, you’re supposed to be my fiancée so I don’t think now is the time for more lies, do you?” _

_ “No.” Tyler stands behind her and wraps an arm around Charlotte’s waist to bring her closer towards him, and Charlotte finds that she can’t really sink into it. Not right now. Not with everything running through her head. “I didn’t know about the bribery, I knew he was desperate for the team to win something again. We all were.” _

_ “Not like this!” Charlotte bites back as she turns around. “I asked you months ago if something was going on because even I knew the results were odd and you said no.” _

_ “I didn’t know he’d actually gone through with it.” _

_ “Are you… are you really trying to feed me that nonsense? Do you know what this means for this club? Do you know what is going to happen? It’s a fucking mess.” _

_ “You should take over,” Tyler says, and he plants a kiss on Charlotte’s cheek. The stubble on his face scratches against her skin and she tries not to cringe at it – at him and them – but she fails because this whole situation is a total hot mess. “You know it’s coming, it’s just a matter of time.” _

_ “I don’t know the first thing about being a CEO.” _

_ “We – you, will learn.”  
_

*****

Charlotte is as hungover as she has ever been.

She vaguely recalls the night before, crying into various cocktails, and later in the night, some sort of cheap whisky. That had been a massive mistake; she hates whisky and always has done. It burns your throat and it tastes like you’re chewing on old wood chips from the ground.

She wakes with a pounding headache, a growing certainty that something is very wrong and a gnawing feeling of nausea in her stomach that is beginning to crawl up into her throat. Then she remembers why she went drinking in the first place and feels her stomach roll violently again.

She is a CEO now.

CEO of an organisation that is wrapped up in a total shit storm and she has no idea where to even start with it all.

Charlotte is beginning to realise that something so delicately human like emotion will test you like nothing else. She is going to find out exactly who she is and exactly what strength she is capable of and what lines she might be tempted to cross. She is heading into the wilderness and she knows, without any doubt, that it will be very easy to get lost.

But maybe, just maybe, that is the whole point because when you get lost you usually get found.

*****

“Is there a world record for the longest headache?” Charlotte’s never been much of a complainer but in this situation she actually thinks she hasn’t complained enough. She usually has the patience of a saint, but right now she isn’t feeling too saintly. “Because if there isn’t, there should be and I should have that record.”

Dana sighs as Charlotte drops into the chair at her desk and begins to rub at the side of her right temple. The yoghurt and fruit she has been eating for lunch have become unappealing and she pushes them off to the side. Charlotte feels it for Dana too – she’s working almost as many hours as Charlotte is and things are still certainly strained with everything going on.

“Your three o’clock got cancelled. Mr Ferdinand had to fly back home, some sort of family emergency. He said he’s forwarded documents to you in an email.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to vent to you.”

“Isn’t that part of my job?” Dana asks, easily.

“I thought your job was to be my assistant?”

“Oh,” Dana gestures aimlessly with her hand, “I can be there for you to vent to when you need me.”

Dana takes this job seriously and it is not simply because she wants to move up on the career ladder, it’s also because she feels a certain loyalty to Charlotte because Charlotte has given her a chance when others maybe wouldn’t due to her lack of experience, and given the circumstances she knows Charlotte probably needs someone else in her corner right now.

“Also, here.” Dana drops a small stack of papers on the desk in front of Charlotte and gives her a sympathetic smile. Charlotte returns it with a tired smile of her own and picks up the first file, skimming through it quickly before setting it aside from the others. Nope.

“I think she’s the best option,” Dana says, placing a perfectly manicured nail on the second file and pulling a few sheets out to place in front of Charlotte. “I mean… that’s the company your dad recommended and I gave the file a quick read through and she meets all the requirements. She’s apparently really good.”

Charlotte supposes that if her dad picked this security company then she should probably pay attention to it. Because although her dad has clearly made some monumental fuck ups – hello, look at the position she is currently in – Charlotte knows that her safety and security is not something he would ever take lightly so she knows she can trust his decision on this because quite honestly, security companies are not exactly her expertise.

“Rebecca Lynch,” Charlotte muses and picking up the front sheet of the file.

“Yes, Rebecca Lynch. Do you need me to stay and go over them all with you?”

“No, Dana, it’s fine,” Charlotte answers with a sigh. “Take your lunch now and I’ll look through the rest of them later, probably during the cancelled three o’clock.”

Charlotte places the sheet of paper down onto her desk before she leans back on her chair and twirls it around so that it is facing the giant floor to ceiling windows. The sky outside looks like nothing really. It is like someone has started to draw on it with coloured pencil and then just erased it in a way that everything is smudged and spread in a diluted dull blue colour.

She swings the chair back around and picks the file back up to look at it.

A bodyguard.

Charlotte has a feeling the whole thing will ultimately be a waste of time and she will never need a bodyguard but given the threats – real or not - that her family have had recently she doesn’t want to take any chances.

A female bodyguard had been Charlotte’s only request in the whole process because she figures that she deals with enough moronic men during the day now that she doesn’t really need to be adding to that unnecessarily.

When Dana asks her at the end of the day who Charlotte prefers, Charlotte pretends that she has gone over the other files and given the decision some serious thought before she slides Rebecca Lynch’s file back across the desk in Dana’s direction. 

“I agree with you and my dad. She seems like the best fit for me right now,” Charlotte says.

*****

The office is painted grey and it has a window high on the wall that faces the parking lot, she can’t see anything out of it but she can hear the sounds of the street outside and the weak morning light is filtering through. There’s a laptop open on her desk, a bunch of newly pressed business cards and a stack of paper that is trapped underneath a planetarium themed paperweight.

It’s a state of half organised clutter but she understands the system and that’s all that matters as far as she is concerned.

“Miss Lynch, what you did for me and my wife was unfounded. I wanted to call you personally instead of just letting the payment do the talking.”

Becky leans back against her desk chair and tries to suppress the yawn that wants to break free from her mouth, she is glad that it is coming to the end of the week. “I was just doin’ my job, but I appreciate the gesture, Mr Davis.”

“Protecting my wife from some crazy stalker isn’t just a job. That woman is my world -”

Becky lets him compose himself as she looks around her office. The walls are still bare and she hasn’t added any specific personal touches to it since they moved in a couple of months ago. She will get around to it at some point.

She lifts up one of the sleek black business cards from her desk and twists it around in her fingers. _ ‘Balor Security: For Everyone’. _Becky’s name is on it along with her phone number and email. It is still kind of amusing for her to see it in print like that.

She is definitely not a rookie anymore. Picking up small time gigs at shitty nightclubs and hospitals are a thing of the past. In the last eighteen months Becky has grabbed any client she could get her hands on and worked her ass off. From guarding low budget awards shows to being a private bodyguard for a rising actor and, more recently, a rising politician in Mr Davis.

Becky’s reputation for the job has kind of sky rocketed and as a result she now she gets to be a little pickier about the jobs she takes on – small victories and all that.

“Thank you for protecting her. I have no idea how I’m going to be able to say thank you properly.”

“Mr Davis, I take my job seriously. I promise you, the pleasure was all mine,” Becky says.

He talks for another few minutes before he has to go to a meeting and Becky is grateful. It’s not that she doesn’t like to know that she’s done a good job because she does, it’s just that hearing it repeatedly makes her feel all kinds of awkward because what else can she possibly say?

Just as she hangs up the phone, Becky hears the continual tapping of feet against the floor of the short corridor outside of her office. It’s Finn. Becky has got his walking rhythm down cold after all this time. Sure enough, within a few seconds, he pops his head around the door and motions with his hand for her to go with him.

“You’re up, Becky. I have a new client for you.”

Becky pushes back on her chair and lifts her suit jacket from the back of it, shrugging it on and feeling the fabric slip over her shoulders and arms. “That was quick, I just finished with Mr Davis yesterday. Thought you’d be tellin’ me to take a few days off like usual.”

“As much as I want you to look after yourself, this –” Finn pauses, searching for the right thing to say. “This one is a biggie.”

Becky rolls her eyes as she follows Finn down the hallway, they walk past another few occupied offices and then down towards Finn’s own. “You say that about em' all.”

“I mean it this time.”

“Alright. So, I guess this person is important?”

“Y’could say that. The pay is real good though, I’ll say that much.”

Becky isn’t really sure what Finn means by that because important is important at the end of the day, there is no real middle ground when it comes to that, the client is either important or they aren’t. She slips into the office after Finn anyway, sitting herself down at the opposite side of the desk from his while he shuts the door over.

There’s a file on the desk already waiting for them.

Finn fully believes in discretion and yet despite that, his office is a bit like a rectangular greenhouse, both its walls and the door is made of reinforced glass so that the access works both ways - Finn can see out and employees can see in. He had once told Becky that it was something to do with good character and trust building, and that it was good for the working environment or some sentimental bullshit like that.

However, when he needs a little privacy for client briefings or meetings, he shuts the door and activates the black electric roller blinds that block out the rest of the world which is exactly what he does when he sits down in his own chair.

Becky decides there and then that this client is definitely important no matter how Finn tries to play it down.

Finn clears his throat. “What do you know about Charlotte Flair?”

Connecting some of the missing dots, Becky looks at the file and then back up at Finn. God, she hopes she’s wrong about this. “Why’d you wanna know that?”

“Just answer the question.”

“She’s Ric Flair’s kid turned brand new CEO,” Becky huffs out. “Ric Flair who has single handedly ruined the reputation of the Royals by bribing every referee in the state or close to it - the only decent women’s soccer team we have here for what it’s worth and everyone is going crazy about it. So if she is anything like him – an’ I’d imagine she is cause lets face it the apple never falls far from the tree - I’d say we’d be better off avoiding that kinda shit.”

Finn rubs at an invisible mark on his cheek before running his hand through his hair. It is meant as an act of consideration, but Becky knows it is because he disagrees with her. She resists the urge to roll her eyes because you would think after all their years of friendship he would know that Becky knows him and his ticks by now.

“You just finished an assignment with a _ politician_,” Finn strings the word out slowly, as if it’s a horrible word that he doesn’t enjoy speaking, “but Charlotte Flair you have a problem with?”

Becky shrugs. “Should tell you everything you need to know about how I feel about it. Ask Nikki or -”

“It’s high profile, Becky. I need someone I can trust for this. Plus, she picked you, I heard back first thing this mornin’.”

“Finn, c’mon. You seriously can’t be givin’ me this job to protect her? Y’know I don’t like to work with those sort of people regularly. They are impossible to deal with, and spoilt, and the press will be everywhere and she’ll have all these stupid engagements -”

“An’ you can handle it.” Finn’s voice is firm and it makes Becky lower her brows like a child who is in a bad mood. She’s not getting out of this. “I put you forward for this cause’ you’re my first choice for the job. My only choice.”

Becky sighs, taking the file that Finn’s holding out and flipping it open. “Y’think I will be enough? This situation with her and her family probably isn’t somethin’ that’s gonna blow over.”

“You’ll have to be enough,” Finn answers. “Miss Flair insisted on one bodyguard only and that it be a female.”

“Awesome.” Becky pushes herself to her feet, file in her hand. “You better call her and get me her schedule then.”

“No need. I told her assistant you would meet her this afternoon to go over a few things.”

Becky is silent for a few moments before she lowers her gaze to meet Finn’s. “Today?”

“Today. Give the file a read over; all the info is in there. Don’t be late to the meeting and let me know how it goes. Oh, and Becky?”

“What?”

“Don’t let her rile you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Becky says as she yanks the office door open and waves him off.

-

Much like most things in life, Becky’s cereal bar promises so much for an afternoon snack and yet delivers so little. It’s bland and overly chewy and it’s no use in all honesty. She wraps the rest of it back into the wrapper and tosses it into the glove compartment next to Charlotte’s file before locking it and stepping out of the car, grabbing her suit jacket from the back seat as she goes.

The building she is heading into is huge. It gallops into the sky and Becky has to crane her head backwards to see the top of it. The building reflects the light as good as any mirror and it makes the whole street seem brighter somehow.

The whole area screams money and wealth.

Becky had read through Charlotte’s file page by page after she had left Finn’s office, looking for any chink in the armour and she had come up short. Charlotte’s education is impeccable. She has no previous with anyone of note. There is no arrest record or anything like that. She is a model citizen by all accounts.

Impressive. Charlotte Flair is irritatingly impressive. That’s what Becky gets from her file anyway.

“Can I take your car, Miss?”

Becky hands the man the ticket she’d pulled from the gate and her parking pass in exchange for a valet – ticket, then she hands over her car keys. “Don’t have much choice, do I?”

“I can assure you, Miss, we will return your car the way you left it when you leave.” It’s a speech the man has said to people a million times before; Becky can see it in the way he smiles, it’s well rehearsed and she gets it, really she does. “It is security protocol.”

“Alright.” Becky watches as the man gets into her car and drives further into the garage until it disappears from view.

As she enters the building, she has to go through a security check with a dour faced officer who clearly isn't enjoying her time at work. Then she moves through to the main lobby of the building to obtain her visitor’s pass. Before long she is being shown to a large elevator by an escort and told to go to the fifty – seventh floor.

Becky’s never been a fan of elevator’s so the thought of being in one for over fifty floors has her a little rattled but also thankful that she didn’t eat the last of her cereal bar after all.

The elevator has white marble walls with a blue carpet, a silver handrail and a fancy little silver button pad that lets you press the floor number that you want. There’s also a little camera in the top left hand corner that’s blinking red every few seconds. The door shuts with a ping and the elevator leaves the ground with a little bump before it rises to the fifty – seventh floor without stopping and Becky’s stomach does that odd swooping thing at the sensation of it.

On the floor, she has to give her name and present her ID again before she’s told to take a seat in the waiting room. It doesn’t take long.

“Miss Lynch,” the woman says as she reaches her hand out in Becky’s direction to shake. “I’m Dana Brooke, Miss Flair’s assistant. If you would like to follow me.”

Becky honestly wouldn’t like to but that’s another story altogether. She is led down a corridor that is flanked by floor to ceiling windows. From this high the city below them looks like a giant man made canyon. There’s the flowing water of the cars and the pedestrian traffic moves along the riverbed of the sidewalks. Looking out from the windows that she passes, Becky can see far into the distance, and yet barely at all to either side; the view is all but concealed by other buildings, built so high that they seem to curve over.

“Miss Flair is expecting you,” Dana says as she knocks on an office door and then opens it so that Becky can step inside and get the first glimpse of the woman she’s going to be working for.

The office is large, luxurious and tastefully decorated.

Charlotte is standing behind an enormous desk and she is just as impressive in person as she is on paper. 

The truth is she is beautiful.

And sure, Becky’s seen Charlotte Flair on the news various times and seen photos of her, so she’s more than aware of what Charlotte looks like but the camera – in either form - doesn’t really do Charlotte justice at all.

She is all flowing long blonde hair and piercing eyes and she’s wearing a midnight blue dress that contrasts against her skin. Her eyes get brighter the closer Becky gets to the desk. Her nails are perfectly done with glitter at the tips the colour of clear ocean water. There’s a rock on Charlotte’s finger that looks sickeningly expensive and her cheeks are slightly pink, Becky has the feeling it is because of frustration – she has seen it all before.

Charlotte arches a slender brow in Becky’s direction and puts her hand on her hip, then she opens her mouth and everything goes to shit.

“Sit.”

“Nah.”

Charlotte’s eyes flutter up to the woman in front of her as she sits down into her own desk chair. “What?”

“I’m not a dog,” Becky says sharply and she holds Charlotte’s gaze, watching her and Charlotte stops in her tracks.

“It’s Rebecca, right?” Charlotte questions, smiling in a way that she’s learned is endearing to most people. Apparently this situation is an exception. “Can I call you Rebecca?”

“I’d prefer Becky.”

Becky is dressed in a light grey suit. The jacket is snugly fitted around her shoulders, covering a white shirt that is as crisp as a brand new banknote and a pale blue tie. It’s not really what Charlotte had been expecting but then how would she know any different? She has never been in this situation before.

“Would you like to take a seat then, Becky?”

Becky doesn’t say anything for a moment but then she looks down at the chair that Charlotte gestures to, and then she pulls it out and away from Charlotte’s desk, and fuck. Charlotte already knows that she has made a total mess of this meeting.

“I can only assume that you’ve never done this before?” Becky asks.

“Look, Miss Lynch -” Charlotte holds her hand out for Becky to shake – better late than never – still looking at Becky with a small smile that certainly isn’t returned in any way.

Some people just have a look about them – you can notice them every now and then, in the line for coffee or at a check out line in the grocery store – like they fully expect their day to go to shit.

And if it doesn’t go to shit because of someone else then they are probably going to make it happen themselves.

Becky has that look about her.

“It’s Becky.” Becky’s eyes meet Charlotte’s own and then they drop down to Charlotte’s hand, and she reaches out to shake it hesitantly.

Charlotte exhales sharply and rolls her eyes. “Becky, I only agreed to this bodyguard nonsense because it was insisted. My dad recommend your company but I don’t want –“

“Let me get this straight, Miss Flair -”

“I’d prefer Charlotte.”

Becky stops talking at the smart ass interruption and tips her head back as she studies Charlotte. Charlotte who is clearly trying to push her buttons. Becky feels something pass between them but she can’t put her finger on it.

“Alright,” Becky says eventually. “Let me get this straight, Charlotte. I don’t wanna be here either but I’m here to keep you safe, so if you think that’s nonsense then that’s fine, I don’t really care. But I take my job seriously so you’re going to have to listen to me and help me do my job, whether you like it or not.”

An odd sensation hooks into Charlotte’s nerves, making her skin itch and her heart thud a little louder in her ears.

“This is the best my father could do?” Charlotte asks with a sigh. “A stubborn, headstrong, pain in the ass?”

Becky smirks for the first time then. She is a smug little shit, Charlotte decides.

“One of my many charms,” Becky says with a nod.

“It’s going to rain today. I hope your car or bike isn’t vulnerable to it.”

“I don’t drive my bike on duty,” Becky answers sincerely.

“Anything I should know about you?” Charlotte queries.

Becky knows what Charlotte is doing. She is going through a checklist of things to make sure Becky is right for the position. Despite the fact that Charlotte has already picked her out and requested her help, she is making sure that Becky fits the bill for whatever Charlotte expects. It happens in every job but Becky doesn’t think she has ever seen it so blatantly.

Either Charlotte is terrible at this, or she is too distracted by everything else to realise how terrible she is being at it.

Clasping her hands together in front of her, Becky leans forward so that she can lean them on Charlotte’s desk. “Well, my name is Becky and I’m your new bodyguard. That’s pretty much it.”

“No other facts?”

“Why’d you wanna know?”

“Well, we’re probably going to be spending a lot of time together. Just thought it would be easier -”

“I’m not here as your friend, Charlotte. Everything you need to know about me is in my file, which I’m sure you have read back to front.”

Charlotte shifts uncomfortably on her seat. Surprisingly, the thought of endless meetings and thousands of emails and phone calls, doesn’t seem so bad anymore.

Or maybe she could find a way to go back in time and read everyone’s applications properly for someone who clearly wants to be around her because Becky definitely does not.

And the feeling is entirely mutual.

*****

Charlotte manages four and a half hours sleep before her brain is fully awake again. She keeps her eyes shut for another minute or two, hoping, praying, but deep inside she knows that it is a pointless exercise. No matter how hard she wishes, no matter how tightly she shuts her eyes, sleep won’t be arriving again anytime soon.

Finally giving up, she rolls over in her surprisingly empty bed and opens her eyes. Unorganised thoughts collide against each other in her head, creating a mess that only serves to unsettle her more. She nearly jumps when she hears the crash from the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” Charlotte asks as she reaches the kitchen. “Are you okay?”

“I pulled the mug out and then it fell and I couldn’t –"

“It’s fine, Tyler.”

Jolted fully awake from the smashed mug, Charlotte runs a hand across her face as she side steps the broken glass and reaches for her own mug. She pours a generous amount of coffee in before making her way to the living room. Tyler joins her a moment later and they sit in the silence of the apartment.

Tyler moves the mug from his lips and speaks over the top of it, steam rising across his face like some sort of magic trick. “Char?”

“Mhmm?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Char -”

“I said I’m fine. Just… a long day ahead.”

“First one with that new bodyguard?”

“Yeah. She hates me already, I can tell.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” he says, but it’s in such a way that Charlotte can tell his concentration is already elsewhere.

Charlotte decides not to reply and instead takes another sip of her coffee.

*****

“You don’t look much like a bodyguard. I thought you would be… bigger… rougher.”

“I find it’s better to blend in than to stand out in this job,” Becky answers.

When Becky and Finn had walked into Charlotte’s office that morning they had been greeted with both Charlotte and her father. Apparently it is Becky’s lucky day today.

“You don’t seem like someone who wastes a lot of time,” Ric says quietly as he sizes Becky up again. “So I’ll cut to the chase. Do you know what you’re signing up for?”

“Yeah.” Becky feels like adding ‘I’m not an idiot’ but she decides against it because Finn is here and the last thing she needs is him glaring at her while he talks with Charlotte and the man Becky now knows as Tyler who has decided to join them too. “With all due respect, I think the whole city knows why your daughter needs security.”

“I made a huge mistake.”

“You sure did,” Becky confirms with a sigh. “Screwing over the city’s best team and everyone associated with it is a pretty big mistake.”

“I’ve worked with Finn before and therefore I trust his judgment on you,” Ric states bluntly, clearly ignoring Becky’s barb. “You’re going to be the only person standing between my daughter and the outside world. Do you understand?”

Becky doesn’t know why, but she finds herself standing up a little straighter under Ric’s stare. “I get it.”

“And that doesn’t concern you?”

“Nah, it doesn’t. I’m the only person she will need, you can trust me on that.” Becky’s words hang heavily in the air between them and Ric blinks once and then twice before he backs off a little.

-

“You understanding all of this?” The words are out of Charlotte’s mouth before Becky has even caught up with her; effectively cutting off whatever it was that Becky was about to say in reply. “That’s all the office space we have on this floor.”

As Charlotte inches the next door inwards, she catches sight of her face in the brass of the Royals’ logo, reflecting back her expression. She looks tired, which she is. She also looks disquieted and anxious, because she is both of those too.

Once the door has followed its arc into the room, she can see the two sofas facing each other. The furniture is rustic but light, decorated liberally with bright cushions. There’s a coffee table in easy reach of both sofa’s and the walls are full of colorful prints. There are several beanbags stacked on the other side of the room that face the window too.

“This is where you can come on your breaks if you need away from things.”

“Are you always like this?” Becky asks.

“Like what?”

“Overbearing,” Becky says, eyes looking over Charlotte’s shoulder like she’s trying to create the illusion of eye contact without actually making any eye contact. “You were supposed to give me a sweep of the premises an’ you haven’t let me ask or answer a question.”

“I have a lot to do today, Becky.” And it’s true, she does. She has meetings all morning and afternoon, and that’s not even taking into account the phone calls and emails she will have to make and answer. “So excuse me if my hospitality skills aren’t up to your standard but I have other things that need my attention, okay?”

“Alright.” Becky accepts the answer with a nod before she glances around the room. It’s full of furniture and hues that she would never choose or even like, but whatever. “Is there anything else I need to know?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?” Becky presses. “Do I have everything I need to keep you safe?”

“Yes. You have my schedule, who I talk to regularly, where I will be and when. You have everything you asked for. I’m not an idiot.”

“Well, in this line of work I deal with idiots frequently, sometimes it’s like teaching a Labrador how to talk French.”

“Are you calling me an idiot?” Charlotte’s face creases in confusion at her own question and Becky’s answer takes a minute to arrive.

“Nah, I’m just saying I deal with them quite often in this job.”

A tight ribbon of pain snakes its way up through Charlotte’s ribs and into her jaw where her teeth are clenched tightly. Becky is going to be insufferable. She is one of those people who have an answer for everything, Charlotte can tell.

Silence falls over them again and Charlotte is slightly worried that it is going to swallow the both of them whole.

“How do you feel about workin' with me then?” Charlotte asks. “Because I have a video call that started five minutes ago and I can’t waste any more time here.”

“Finally somethin’ we can agree on.”  
  
"You start full time on Monday."  
  
"I know," Becky answers.

-

Later in the evening, Becky stands in the shower, eyes closed, letting the hot water run down her bare back. She stays like that until her skin burns and the steam is thick. Then she opens her eyes and takes a step out the shower stream.

She thinks about her job. She thinks about Charlotte. She thinks about Monday's schedule.

This whole thing is going to be a fucking nightmare.


	2. won't do you no good, said it won't do you no good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The response to the first chapter was unbelievable - thank you so much! 
> 
> I forgot to say in the first chapter that the italics are all flashbacks if that wasn't clear. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy chapter 2 :)

The early Sunday morning sky is steel grey when Becky looks out of her bedroom window.

It's still possible to see evidence of the sunrise, a faint brush of red paint on the horizon, but then when Becky looks again, that has gone and the grey has completely swept in.

Sound begins to flow into her apartment from the city outside: it is starting to wake up – traffic, birds, activity.

Becky enjoys the serenity of her place. It is a small studio apartment that gives her plenty of parking space for one. It’s also not too far from her office, not too far from the places that she likes to eat and it has a great view of the park below that gives her a moment to unwind when she needs it.

She doesn’t keep a lot here. A couch, her bed and the few appliances that she owns. Everything has its own place and she expects it to stay there unless it is being used.

And the best part is that it is usually quiet.

She reaches her right arm up in front of her and watches as her hand opens and then closes into a fist, she squeezes tightly until she feels the muscles in her arm start to create resistance. Then she does the same with the other hand until her other arm is beginning to grow tight too.

Becky has often been called strong and she knows people mean it as a compliment but there is something about it that makes her heart sink these days.

The scar that wraps deeply around the knuckle of her index finger looks washed out, shiny and pale. It is the only evidence of her life before all of this. Sometimes it aches like a ghostly echo of the glove that cut it so long ago.

She squeezes her hands tightly – until her knuckles are white - for a final time before she lets them unfurl and the blood rushes back into them, Becky can feel it flooding back into her fingers, as if it knows it is welcome to stay now.

There’s a deep ache inside of her that she still wants to soothe.

And sometimes she moves through the days trying to fill this empty spot inside of her but it doesn’t seem to go away. It shows up when she’s stressed or anxious. It shows up when she’s tired or hungry. Hell, it even shows up when she’s happy and everything in the day is good.

She lets out a sigh that vibrates in her chest and then she closes her eyes again. Everything about her feels heavy this morning – from her fingers to her toes. She lets her head loll from left to right, eyes still closed, enjoying the brief darkness that it brings.

But she knows she won’t go back to sleep, there will be no chance to conjure up any new dreams so instead she sits up and rolls out of bed.

-

Becky likes the usual singular, solitary nature of running. It gives her time alone, time to clear her head and calm her thinking, and because she enjoys it, she keeps doing more of it.

She enjoys the sensation of her heart beating vigorously against her chest, and the burning in her calves and her lungs. She bounces up and down to the steady rhythm of Kaleo’s '_No Good_’ that she is listening to through one ear and she can feel her light hoodie beginning to stick to her skin underneath.

Despite usually running alone, Finn is about twenty paces in front of her, stretching out a bigger lead that Becky doesn’t really like.

“Becky! Cmon, slow coach,” Finn calls over his shoulder. 

Becky tries to shift quicker so that her feet are kissing the trail harder and she enjoys the way her muscles initially strain against it as she turns and heads uphill. She catches up with Finn soon after and when they reach the top both of them come to a stop.

“So,” Finn breathes out harshly. “You ready to get started full time with Charlotte tomorrow?”

“Oh, come on,” Becky answers quickly, “I didn’t get out of bed early on a Sunday morning to run with you and talk about Charlotte bloody Flair.”

“It’s just a question.”

“Yeah, and you already know the answer.” Becky bends slightly, resting her hands on her knees and wiggling her toes in her running shoes. “I’m gonna have to be with her all day and night.“

“It won’t be all day and night, you will get time off like every other assignment you’ve done for me. You’ll be spending all week in meetings with a few press events so it’s nothing you can’t handle. With any luck it’ll be quiet.”

“Do I have to paint her nails and braid her hair tomorrow mornin’ too?”

“Sure,” Finn beams at her, “go ahead. Doubt she will want you to but you can try.”

Becky scoffs. _ Yeah right. _ “We have nothing in common. It’s gonna be a nightmare.”

“Ah, stay optimistic, Becky, you never know what might happen."

*****

Charlotte trudges into work with all the enthusiasm of someone who has just arrived home from a month long luxurious vacation. Her mind goes through a quick checklist of today’s schedule and as far as Monday’s go, it is probably going to be a pretty shitty one.

As she walks into the building, the lobby looks too bright and the marble looks too shiny. Muted voices echo around her and people weave around her in slow motion. The elevator heading up is cramped and confining, so much so that she gets off two floors below her own and takes the stairs up to where her office is.

There is a stack of paper already on her desk waiting for her and she sinks wearily into her chair. She closes her eyes, resting her head against the back of her wrist. It feels a bit like she is floating alone on a life raft with nothing to see except endless ocean in every direction.

Charlotte wonders how people can actually want to aspire to be a CEO. It is absolutely nothing like it is on the TV and she finds the people in a similar position of power around her have essentially become a shell of a person – they care about nothing other than money and even more power.

And the whole thing… just isn’t her.

Add to the fact that she will have to deal with Becky today too, and it just all feels overwhelming.

Her office door sails open and Dana breezes in looking far too happy for a Monday morning. “Hey.” She smiles, her teeth white within the frame of her red lips. “Stopped in to see if you needed anything before Miss Lynch arrives?”

“I don’t think so.” Charlotte can’t meet her eyes.

Dana shuts the door and her expression narrows shrewdly in Charlotte’s direction. “Are you okay?”

Charlotte nods, saying nothing.

“Are you sure?”

Tension tightens at Charlotte’s temples and she tries to respond but the words get stuck at the back of her throat.

Dana’s back straightens with a take-charge ambition. “I see a cocktail lunch in your near future.” She glances at her watch. “It’s always five o’clock somewhere.”

“Oh, I wish, Dana.”

Dana gives her a decisive nod then. “I’ll make you and Tyler a reservation immediately.”

“Don’t.” Charlotte stops her. “I can’t, this week is busy, very busy.”

She has meetings on top of meetings and there’s also a press event at the end of the week where she has to try and attempt to save some face for the company and the club, and she is dreading it.

“Can you stick around until Becky gets here?”

“Of course, do you not like -”

“She’s just a little intense is all,” Charlotte answers, “I don’t think she likes her job very much.”

“Who does?”

“I sincerely hope that’s a joke, Dana.”

Dana smiles and Charlotte feels strangely comfortable because of it. There is no judgment or pity from Dana, and no questions. Just a silent confirmation that she is there for whatever Charlotte needs.

“Of course it is.”

-

“Can I ask you somethin’?” Becky asks, and then she crunches a bit of green apple between her teeth. Becky has her chair pushed back far enough from the desk so that she can’t reach it with her hands. It is like she doesn’t want to get too close to Charlotte in case Charlotte gives off radioactive waves or something.

Dana left the office twenty minutes ago, so it is only the two of them now and Charlotte had been hoping that Becky would be a little looser when Dana left, but she’s still pretty much giving Charlotte the cold shoulder.

“Sure,” Charlotte answers. It’s about time Becky said something of her own accord.

Becky runs her hand through her hair. “I probably should have asked this already.” She pauses and looks around the office again. “What exactly do you want me to do while we are in here?”

“Like we’ve discussed, be prepared to spend a lot of time with me. You go where I go, I guess.”

Becky’s face shifts into a more fed up expression with Charlotte’s statement. “I got that part down already. I mean where do you want me? Standing outside the office, sittin' in here with you?”

“Oh. Well, what do you usually do?” Charlotte asks as she scribbles some notes down onto a printed page of the budget trajectory.

“You really don’t have a clue, do you?”

“I haven’t had much reason to practice until now,” Charlotte snaps back immediately. “Stand in here, at the door.”

“Alright.” Becky pushes her chair out and stands up. 

“Oh, and Dana usually gets me coffee at around nine if you wouldn’t mind fetching me that.”

To her own credit, Becky doesn’t let her face betray her when it so easily could. She is here to offer security not to run around after Charlotte’s morning fucking coffee.

“You… y’want me to go an’ get you your coffee?”

“Yeah. It will save Dana coming all the way down the hall. Get yourself one too if you’d like.”

Becky doesn’t move from where she is standing, instead she takes another bite of her apple and chews for a painfully long time, long enough so that Charlotte looks up from what she is doing.

“Do you need me to get you your lunch too? Maybe another coffee at twelve?”

“Look on the bright side, Becky,” Charlotte says, “it’ll get you out of the office because your face kind of gives it away that you’d rather be anywhere else but here with me.”

*****

It’s been three weeks and thing’s haven’t really improved.

Charlotte is still struggling with her new position and Becky still doesn’t want to be there, of that Charlotte is pretty certain.

She notices it in small little ways like when Becky walks her to a meeting room she will walk just far enough from Charlotte so that they don’t brush shoulders or touch at all.

Or how Becky leaves just before nine every morning to get her coffee from Dana without saying a single word, she just disappears and reappears before Charlotte can even register that she has gone for a few moments.

Or how Becky refrains from looking at her unless it is absolutely necessary, and even then it feels like it is a chore for Becky.

Charlotte just simply doesn’t get her.

And it strangely hurts. 

She knows what has been written about her and her family, and she knows what has been said too but surely not everyone can believe that? Charlotte had started to think that it is maybe more of a Becky problem but Charlotte had been hoping that her and Becky would have made at least some progress by now.

So, as a result, it is still mostly quiet and tense and uncomfortable between them.

“It’s late, you should go home,” Charlotte sighs and lowers further into her seat and her voice sounds hoarse; it is like when you’ve been talking all day and your throat is beginning to get dry and cracked and it’s tough to swallow. “You don’t need to stay with me.”

“I kinda do,” Becky answers, and she looks across at Charlotte in a ‘are you joking me’ kind of way. “It’s my job to be here.”

“It’s your job? Wouldn’t have guessed.”

The joke falls flat on its face and Becky heaves out a sigh that sounds like it has originated from the soles of her feet.

It doesn’t matter what she tries, Charlotte can’t say anything right when it comes to Becky.

“You seem to have an aversion to smiling when you’re at work.”

Becky’s answer to that is simple. “Do I really have much to smile about when I’m here?”

Charlotte feels her lips curl up and then she replies, “I don’t know, do you?”

“Nah. Like you said, I got an aversion to smiling at you.”

“Go home, I’m fine.”

“Nope.”

It’s a test of stubbornness.

Charlotte stares at Becky and Becky stares right back and Becky doesn’t even blink, not once. Becky rises to her feet and then she walks over to Charlotte’s office door, shutting it over so it clicks into place and the room is bathed in silence again.

Charlotte watches her for a second. There is something different about Becky now, something more intense, as if she has expanded and grown taller.

“If you’re here,” Becky says, “then so am I, that’s how this job works.”

It’s the last nail being hammered into this disagreement coffin and Charlotte finds herself on the losing side again.

*****

_ Grinders _ does a perfect cappuccino and their croissants are pretty damn good too.

Charlotte sits against the back of the booth near the window, watching the pedestrian Saturday morning traffic go back and forth across the street. The line at the counter is long as usual and it takes over ten minutes before Nattie is sitting Charlotte’s coffee down in front of her.

The coffee sits prettily in a black cup, a spider’s web pattern in delicate milky foam. Charlotte wraps her fingers around it, enjoying the warmth that starts to spread through her hands. Nattie, however, is already sipping at her own drink like it’s not just been poured and boiling hot.

“I hate to break it to you,” Nattie says, “but I don’t think those sunglasses are going to make any difference. People will still probably know you look like shit.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Charlotte answers and she’s genuinely annoyed but it is not at Nattie and they both know that. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

“I know. Plus, I’m not really into public displays of affection for myself.”

Charlotte takes a deep breath and gives Nattie a genuine smile, removing her sunglasses at the same time. “What the hell am I going to do with you?”

“Keep smiling,” Nattie answers, “it makes it much easier to breathe.”

“Do you forgive me for snapping at you?”

“Yes, but don’t do it again,” Nattie says, “or I may have to kill you myself.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Charlotte hums.

“Are you okay?”

They both stare at each other, the pair of them slipping back into the quiet of the coffee shop, and then Charlotte lets out a breath and shakes her head. “Not really. I think I’m out of my depth.”

“You’re not, you’re just adjusting,” Nattie suggests as she shifts in her seat. “It’s like any new job, it takes time.”

“I don’t have time that’s the problem. The season is coming up. I have disgruntled players, budgets, boardroom issues _obviously_, a media mess, Becky – the security - she also hates me. Tyler who thinks I have no time for him anymore. Where does it stop?”

“It could be worse not having time for him.”

Charlotte narrows her eyes at her. “Don’t start, Nattie.”

The coffee table inbetween them had once been brightly coloured front doors, from a neighbourhood where blood orange and electric blue were clearly in. In the grain of the wood there are still streaks of the colours visible, and they begin to flake off when Charlotte scrapes at it with her nail. The air is thick with the smell of coffee and Charlotte drinks in the aroma like everyone else.

“Why does the security woman hate you?”

“Becky?”

“Yeah.”

“Where do I start?”

“Probably from the beginning,” Nattie says, with a shrug.

Charlotte tells Nattie about her and Becky’s first meeting and how blunt Becky has been with her, and how Becky never smiles and barely says a word unless she is prompted. She tells Nattie about how when Becky returns with their coffee in the morning she genuinely looks tempted to dump it all over the top of Charlotte’s desk, to hell with the paperwork. She tells Nattie about how when Becky returns from one of her few breaks she almost seems disappointed that she has had to come back.

Charlotte basically tells Nattie everything.

“I thought having female security would be easier than having a man following me around all day,” Charlotte admits, she glances down at the table and lets out a deep sigh, releasing it slowly through her nose. “But it’s not. Becky isn’t much different from the men I deal with daily. Stubborn. Annoying. Blunt. There’s just… something off with her.”

“She does sound intense,” Nattie admits.

“Correction,” Charlotte holds up her index finger, “not sounds, she is.”

“Well… it’s probably something to do with the fact that you’re treating her like an extra assistant when that’s not what she is there for.”

“What?”

“You,” Nattie nods towards Charlotte. “She isn’t there to get you coffee and do silly lunch runs, Charlotte, she is there to protect you. Why don’t you get _ her _a coffee for once? And then try and talk to her about whatever you want to. Jesus, you really are an idiot sometimes.”

Charlotte leans her head back and has to stop herself from laughing. Charlotte can always count on Nattie more than anyone. She has always had Charlotte’s back and she doesn’t bullshit her when Charlotte is being stupid. 

Best friends are like superheroes really. They can make you feel like you can take on the world and be invincible, they can nurse the nagging doubts or worry in your head and then sometimes they can kick your ass and make you see sense when you need it.

*****

When Becky arrives for work she is stopped before Charlotte’s office by Dana and directed to a coffee cup that has Becky’s name written across the front of it.

Dana doesn’t say anything; she just leaves Becky to it and goes back behind her desk and starts furiously typing away at something.

There is no note to let Becky know who the buyer is and yet one smell of it tells Becky that it is her usual order from the place downstairs – a cinnamon, vanilla latte. Becky peers around and no one even bothers to look her way or acknowledge her at all, so she turns her attention back onto the cup.

It is still hot when she takes a drink of it as she walks towards Charlotte’s office and the first sip of it washes smoothly over her taste buds. After a few seconds she feels the familiar warmth and the kick of the caffeine.

“Ah, you got it then?” Charlotte says, when Becky enters the office with her coffee still clutched closely in her hand.

“You… got me this?”

“I did. Shut the door.”

The room falls silent as the door closes over, and Becky can see Charlotte beginning to grow a little uncomfortable at it. Charlotte had been expecting a thank you of some sort, Becky can tell.

Charlotte clears her throat and it takes a second for Becky to give Charlotte her attention again.

“Is the coffee okay for you?”

Becky nods. “Can’t say I can complain much about the coffee I get every single day.”

“You don’t like me, do you?”

The bluntness of Charlotte’s question surprises Becky and this isn’t a conversation she wants to have before nine in the morning, before her work day has even begun really. 

“What d’you mean?” Becky asks, deciding to play stupid.

“You have this big wall up around me, and it feels like you would rather be anywhere else than here,” Charlotte says, “I mean, I get it, I don’t particularly like coming to work some days either as you know. I don’t expect you to be my biggest fan, but it’s like I ruined all your birthday’s or something.”

Becky huffs as she walks over towards Charlotte’s desk, pulling the seat out so she can sit across from her. “You want me to be honest with you?”

“Only if you want to.”

“I doubt it’ll be a huge surprise to you,” Becky says, “but I didn’t wanna take this job.”

“Why? You really think I’m some sort of terrible person?” Charlotte’s voice becomes rough, like fragmented rocks, moving and grinding against each other.

Becky shrugs. “Didn’t say that.”

Charlotte leans forward against the desk and crosses her arms, trying to regain some of the composure that she so desperately wants to display right now. “Actions speak louder than words, Becky. You’re not exactly subtle about it.”

“I don’t know you,” Becky states. "Not really anyway."

“Exactly, so you don’t have the right to judge me.”

“But,” Becky stresses. “I’ve read stories and I’ve heard em’ too. Charlotte Flair, Queen of the famous Flair family.”

The laugh that comes from Charlotte is like a newly sprung leak – shy at first, stopping and then starting. She isn’t done yet though, Becky can tell from the way that Charlotte rolls her eyes towards the ceiling and half bites down on her lip. Her laugh is like ripples in a pond after a rock has been launched into the water.

“I didn’t expect you to be one of those people, Becky. Stories from where exactly? The people you work -”

“Not from Finn,” Becky rushes out immediately, “or anyone I work with for that matter. Just from the news and stuff.”

Charlotte rolls her eyes again but there’s no laugh this time. “Seriously? The news and stuff? Talk about credible sources. You know what? It’s fine, you don’t need to like me. Not everyone has good taste after all.”

Becky’s eyes flicker up from the spot that she’s staring at over Charlotte’s shoulder to find Charlotte smiling at her. Damn. Maybe Charlotte does have some sort of personality after all.

“Trust me. I got taste,” Becky corrects. “And a good eye for character. So far you’ve been alright, I guess. But we’ve only known each other for a few weeks, no one shows their shitty side or flaws that early.”

Charlotte stares at her blankly, and Becky can see her working over an answer in her mind. “So, that would mean you’re hiding your flaws from me too, right? What kind of skeletons do _ you _have in your closet?”

Becky can’t stop the smirk from flashing over her lips.

Personality, yeah, Charlotte definitely has one despite the odds.

“I’m sure I have qualities that you’ll find you don’t like,” Becky states, as she takes another drink of her readily cooling coffee. “No one is perfect.”

“Who says I haven’t already found those qualities about you?”

This conversation is taking a huge diversion from where Becky had thought it would go. Her initial plan had been to drink her coffee in peace, get out of this conversation as quickly as possible and then get on with the working day.

“I can’t argue with that, at all.” Becky smiles again and then adds, “thanks for the coffee, I guess.”

“I thought it was about time I got you one,” Charlotte admits. “I know I haven’t been the easiest to be around, but this is all new to me.”

“Well, I guess it’s better _ latte _ than never.”

“You didn’t just make a coffee pun, did you?”

“I did.”

“Just don’t expect it every morning,” Charlotte states, “you know what they say, drinking too much coffee can cause a _ latte _problems.”

Becky looks impressed with the comeback and then she laughs. It sounds like it is coming from the bottom of her stomach and forcing its way up and out of her throat. It actually sounds exactly like Charlotte thought it would, and if it takes coffee and lame puns to get something out of her then so be it, Charlotte will take that every day of the week.

-

A few hours later when Becky is walking Charlotte back from one of the giant meeting rooms, she opens Charlotte’s office door and gestures for Charlotte to step inside first, and then she says. “You let em’ boss you around too much in there. You need to grow a backbone. Show them who makes the decisions around here now.”

“Excuse me?”

“You. You’re a big fish in a pond, Charlotte, but you’re swimmin’ in the ocean now and the ocean has sharks, and guess what? They never sleep.”

“Wow. You haven’t glared at me for two hours now and you’re offering me advice?” A smile stretches across Charlotte’s mouth. “Could someone finally be warming up to me a little?”

“Definitely not. I’m just tryin’ to make my job easier.”

*****

Things do get easier… slightly.

Becky talks a little more often and sometimes she doesn’t look at Charlotte as if Charlotte is the worst person on the planet, and sometimes she even smiles but there is still something that’s off, and Charlotte can’t yet put her finger on it.

“Becky said you needed me for something?” Dana calls into Charlotte’s office, only popping her head around the door so that the rest of her is hidden behind it.

“Yeah, I actually wondered if you could get me Becky’s file? I just need to check something.” Charlotte doesn’t want to say that she never read the file like she should have initially and so, she doesn’t right now.

Dana comes into the office at those words. Her eyebrows inch up towards her hairlines as she stares across at Charlotte. “Her personal file?”

Charlotte tries to breathe away the sudden sensation that this is maybe a silly idea. “Yeah, her file. Am I speaking a different language that you don’t understand?”

“No. But haven’t you read it already?”

"I may have skimmed through it more than I should have,” Charlotte admits, her voice sounding less defensive. “So, can you get me it?”

“Sure, do you want me to bring it to you now or?”

“Can you email me it? Becky will be back shortly and I can’t exactly read it with her around.”

“Of course, I’ll get right on it.” 

\- 

Charlotte all but forgets about Becky’s file until she gets home.

Her phone lies on her chest and it lights up with an email alert that also tells her that it is almost midnight now. She had gone to bed over an hour ago, promising herself that she would try and go straight to sleep, but that clearly hasn’t happened. Next to her, Tyler is lying on his stomach, the sheet gathered around his shoulders and he is sound asleep.

The new email she has is a promo for some fancy hotel that she definitely doesn’t have the time for right now so she deletes it and then she remembers what she asked Dana for earlier. Charlotte scrolls down further until she gets to the email that she wants to read.

She slips out of bed and grabs a robe, slipping it over her shoulders and pulling it tightly in at her waist. It feels a little colder in the apartment at this time of night and she’s not sure that this thin robe does anything other than make her look good.

She pads quietly into the kitchen she has designed herself, stroking the granite work surfaces as she makes her way towards the extravagant fridge. She is reassured by the quality around her; top of the range, only the best her father had said. She takes a bottle of water from the fridge and then sits down at the polished glass breakfast table.

Charlotte turns her attention back onto her phone and she clicks on the email so that the document downloads. She has to zoom in to read any of it, and she scrolls through the first few pages quickly because it contains all the information about Becky that she can remember.

She takes a drink of her water and slouches back onto the chair, staring at the font that jumps off the screen telling Charlotte about Becky’s life before this, before San Francisco.

It takes a couple of more pages but Charlotte thinks she has finally hit on something. The information is contained in a small paragraph about half way down the page, and the details are pretty crunched so that it only contains the vitals.

For a moment she pauses, just reading over the paragraph again.

She minimises the email, fires up the browser and types in Becky’s full name to the search engine. There is next to nothing on the first page but on the second page she hits on something else.

Suppressing a prickle of unease, she clicks on the link that takes her to a new page.

“_Promising Irish boxer stable after suffering serious injury” _is the headline at the top of the new tab.

Curiosity gets the better of her and Charlotte presses play on the video that is attached to the top of the article. It has been taken with a phone and the recording is shaky and disorientating to start with, but it becomes steadier as the seconds tick past.

It starts off with some stilted shots of the crowd – who appear to have been stunned into silence - surrounding the ring and then the chaos that lies in the middle. There’s blood smeared across the floor of it and there is too much of it to come from just one person.

Becky’s opponent is leaning over the top rope and her head is burst open; a vertical cut right down her forehead that is pouring blood freely. Becky, however, is lying prone on the floor with a flood of people around her.

There is something weird and slightly unsettling about watching this unfold. Charlotte casts the thought aside, trying not to let it sidetrack her, and, as she does, something more pragmatic takes holds: maybe this is the key, maybe this explains a few things about Becky.

But then the video comes to a stop and Charlotte doesn’t see how it ends, so she is left wondering.

She skims through the rest of Becky’s file, feeling certain now that it isn’t going to open any more doors for her.

*****

Becky glances over at Charlotte. Every few moments like clockwork she finds her eyes wandering. She glances across, and as if Charlotte can sense it, she looks across at Becky too. Their eyes lock for a few seconds before Charlotte goes back to something on her computer.

With a sigh, Becky leans back on her heels slightly. “Will you just say what you’re itchin’ to say to me?”

When Charlotte, in the middle of taking a sip of her coffee, nearly chokes on the liquid, Becky realises that Charlotte doesn’t really know how to process whatever it is she is holding back.

“What?” Charlotte asks the question flatly, as if she has no real investment in it, but there is a kind of narrowness to her face now, like she is holding her breath. Like she knows she has been caught out. She pauses giving herself a moment to think.

“Y’know what.”

“I just,” Charlotte starts when her courage has apparently returned, “didn’t know you had a sports background like me.”  
  
“Why are you bringin' that up now?”  
  
“I read about what happened in that boxing match -”

“What happened in that boxing match is none of your business,” Becky forces herself to say, and it feels as though there is a hand around her throat squeezing the air out of her lungs.

Charlotte knows it is a mistake as soon as the words tumble out of her mouth. Becky seems agitated now, on edge, and suddenly Charlotte feels like she has overstepped a huge line. If Becky had fur then Charlotte is pretty sure that her hackles would be up right now

“Becky -”

“Charlotte.” It’s just a word, just her name but Charlotte is pretty sure that Becky could cut her throat with the way that she says it.

Becky feels a pop of pain at the back of her head and, for a second, white spots flash in front of her eyes. When they are gone, a fresh spike of nausea bubbles in her throat. She tries to ignore it, watching Charlotte’s eyes flick up towards her own.

“I’m sorry,” Charlotte whispers, voice hoarse, because she is. “I never meant to cross a line. I know how it must feel-”

“When I need someone to tell me how to feel about things then I’ll be sure to let you know, Flair.”

Becky’s anger comes like a massive build up of steam, and it doesn’t just burn her on the way out, it burns whoever is on the receiving end of it too. There is the initial release and then the mental framework that needs repaired afterwards to avoid the guilt that usually sets in or the shame that is nobody’s but her own. 

“Listen, I’m here to do a job. That’s it. We don’t talk about this again, you understand what I’m sayin’?”

Becky is one of the most intense people Charlotte has ever encountered. She’s like some sort of electrical storm. It’s actually a little scandalous how intense Becky is. She sees it in the way that Becky’s nostrils flare, and the way her throat bobs as she swallows harshly, and the way her hands are squeezed at her sides but it’s not born out of anger.

Charlotte knows it for what it is, it’s fear. 

And sometimes the best thing you can do for someone who is afraid like this is back off a little and give them space.

Charlotte finds herself answering, and concern or what passes for it, starts to creep into her voice. “I understand.”

-

Becky’s mood doesn’t really improve as the day goes on.

Her mind is scattered and she can’t stop thinking about _ it_.

She has become a pro at keeping her feelings in check about the whole thing even though it would be so easy to slip into the past and wallow in it. She tries not to think about her boxing career anymore, it is too raw and too painful. Those painful memories are books and chapters that she doesn’t want to read again so she tends to leave them on the shelf at the back of her mind to gather dust instead. 

She doesn’t want to recall about how her body jarred with the blow, how the pain seared through her head and her skin, and took away the feeling of safety she had in the ring. She had put everything into each strike. 

She had almost made it.

Yet she had taken her eye off the ball for a fraction of a second and it had cost her everything. The fight. Her career. The three months she spent trying to recover physically. The memory is sharp and it cuts right through her every time she thinks about it so that is why she doesn’t.

There were times after her recovery when Becky felt like the world was slowly disappearing in front of her, or maybe it was just her who was fading away into nothing.

And at that point it didn’t matter anyway because all she could think about was the burning in her lungs and her heart pounding against her chest so hard that she thought it was going to break her ribs and rip apart her skin.

And the void. 

Oh, the void.

The black hole that appeared in her head and deep inside her soul, slowly swallowing up her dreams so that they could be chewed up and spat back out like they meant nothing.

She had watched her dreams get shattered. It was done, it was over and Becky had lost a part of her that she will never regain.

And there’s not a day that goes by that Becky doesn’t miss the part of her that she lost. There is not a day that goes by that Becky’s heart doesn’t cry softly for what and who she was.

It’s like when you’re swimming and the sun is shining and you’re having a great time but then a harsh wave comes and sucks you under into the darkness of the water. And it doesn’t matter how hard you try to reach the surface, another new wave comes and knocks you back under again.

Becky finds herself wandering back down the old familiar path until she is pulled back into the present. Nothing has changed. She is still at work, she is still sitting in the mind numbingly boring meeting about the upcoming season and she still can’t change anything about the past because no one can.

Not even her.

*****

_ It is past visiting hours on the rehab wing. _

_ Finn rides the elevator up to the fifth floor and makes his way to a small reception area with a locked door, a wall mounted phone, several chairs and a small table with a sign in sheet. He doesn’t bother signing the sheet and by the looks of it he doesn’t think anyone else does either. _

_ He picks up the phone and it automatically connects to the nurse’s station inside and within a few seconds there is someone else at the other end of the phone. _

_ “Can I help you?” the female voice says. She doesn’t sound very helpful and given the hours she’s probably worked today Finn can’t really blame her. _

_ “I need to see Becky,” Finn replies. He doesn’t recognise the nurse’s voice. “It’s important.” _

_ There’s an extended pause and then some rustling down the phone. “Wait a second.” _

_ After a few minutes the door beeps and then pops away from the hinges, revealing a tired looking woman who looks like she’s been in the job for a long time. “I’m only letting you in at this time because she said she would see you right now.” _

_ “I know the way, I’ve been here several times this week.” _

_ Becky barely looks at him never mind talks to him and the weight of that is beginning to buckle his knees. _

_ “I’ll walk with you anyway,” the nurse, answers. _

_ There’s no TV’s in the rooms but Finn can hear the news channel blasting out from the communal room down the hall. The news is always on and Finn can never really figure out why because it’s usually depressing as shit. _

_ Yesterday when he had come to see Becky there had been several people in the room watching the news and all of them were considerably older than Becky. Finn is beginning to understand why Becky maybe doesn’t want to venture outside her room too much. _

_ The place had shocked him initially. Fluorescent lights, grim tiled floors, patients who looked old and frail compared to his best friend. _

_ Everywhere he looks there are reminders of why people are in here and it is not pretty. _

_ Becky has been in here for over two weeks now. Her psyche has taken a hammering. Finn, maybe more than anyone, knows Becky is going to need support and a mountain of it. But what everyone, Finn included, hadn’t counted on is that once Becky had gotten into this place she wouldn’t want to come back out of it. _

_ The nurse follows Finn to Becky’s room. The blinds have been pulled shut but the light on Becky’s beside table is on, and she is sitting up, on top of white sheets, the pillow folded in half behind her long hair and a book is spread open on her lap. _

_ She’s wearing a baggy t-shirt, old sweatpants and a pair of old colourful socks that Finn gave her years ago as a birthday gift. She’s gained weight and from a distance she looks like the person Finn has known since he was a kid; pretty, healthy and whole. _

_ Up close though, Becky’s demeanor tells a different story. Becky’s eyes fix on Finn and he feels a strange sense of unease like Becky can see right through him. _

_ It is like Becky has grown stiller. _

_ “Why’re you here at this time? Becky asks. _

_ “Can I get a minute?” Finn asks the nurse. _

_ “Fine but y’cant take too long. You shouldn’t even be here at this time,” she murmurs and steps out the room. _

_ He pulls the guest chair on Becky’s side – cheap plastic, he reckons it’s so you can’t hurt anyone if you decide to start chucking things around – and sits down. _

_ “What are you doing, Becky?” _

_ Becky doesn’t react at all; she just sits and looks at Finn, not moving, not blinking, not saying anything. “I’m getting better, that’s what I’m here for. Now, why are you here?” _

_ “I’m here because I need my friend back.” _

_ Becky turns her face away from him and her attention falls back onto her book. Now that he can see it up close he can see it’s about Muhammad Ali and Finn finds his eyes closing of their own accord. _

_ Tears begin to sting Finn’s eyes and he loses his strength. “I need my friend back, Becky. We all fuckin’ need you. I won’t let you sit in here and rot so you can forget all about that.” _

_ Becky just stares at him again but there’s something in her expression this time, something different and maybe that’s a good thing Finn thinks, maybe he’s finally getting through to her. God he hopes so. _

_ “Becky, please.” The words leave him emotionally naked. “I know boxing was – is – everything to you, an’ I can’t imagine what you’re going through but there’s more to life than boxing.” _

_ “I would have made it big,” Becky says quietly. _

_ “Yeah… you would have.” _

_ “I know I would have. I worked my ass of for years and I took my eyes off the ball for one second and my career is over, it’s gone. Done. I’m done.” _

_ “You aren’t done.” _

_ “Boxing is all I know, Finn. It’s all I’m good at and I can’t do it again. Trust me, I’m done.” _

_ “Come to the US and work for me. You can have a clean slate when you’re ready. We can -” _

_ “I can’t.” _

_ “I won’t let you do this to yourself,” Finn says. _

_ “This is my life now.” _

_ “Nah, I ain’t gonna sit and let you ruin the rest of your life by wallowin’ in this pity party here!” _

_ Momentarily stunned at his outburst, Becky places the book on her bed before she stands. Finn reaches out and he starts to hold onto her. _

_ She allows Finn to hold her and before long she finds herself trembling and holding onto him too. _

*****

Becky pulls into the parking space that Sasha has officially designated as Becky’s own outside Beer Banks. It’s been a while since Becky has had the chance to visit her best friend here. Ever since she has been working security detail for Charlotte, the days have sort of flew past in a blur and it feels like most things in her life have been put on the back burner for the foreseeable.

Right now though, Becky doesn’t have to deal with any of it. 

She doesn’t have to deal with Charlotte or Charlotte’s questions about her personal life, in fact she doesn’t need to think about work in general at all. 

Becky squeezes the steering wheel as she sits in her car, letting the events of the last few weeks run through her mind before attempting to shake it off and focus on the current matter at hand.

Sasha. Drink. Vent. 

And probably repeat. 

Outside Finn, Sasha is Becky’s person and she is the only person around here who really knows Becky. For some reason, Sasha had landed slap bang in the middle of Becky’s life one night and Becky has been glad of it ever since.

Sure, Sasha is a little rough around the edges and a bit more honest than some people can cope with, but there’s another person underneath that too: the person with the huge heart and the soothing words and the understanding mind.

And Becky loves all of that about Sasha, she’s the kind of person who won’t tolerate any bullshit from you but will support you until the bitter end when you need it.

It’s kind of a funny story about how they met and Becky still laughs about it now when she thinks about it.

*****

_ Becky’s exhausted. _

_ There’s a kind of tired that requires a good night’s sleep and another kind of tired that requires so much more than that. For Becky, both of them have begun to seep into each other, until one day it became ever present for her – one day it was like wearing a heavy jacket but now it’s like walking around with heavy bones. _

_ Her body needs the rest and yet her mind needs to move, it needs to burn the anxiety right out. So instead of getting some rest after an extremely long flight, Becky finds herself on the hunt for a place where she can get a drink and she finds one, not too far from her new apartment. _

_ The neon sign is no constellation, yet it navigates Becky just the same: BEER BANKS. _

_ From the outside, it doesn’t look like much, the brick has begun to fade and the windows could do with a good scrub but it is a bit of a different story on the inside. There are high top tables and booths spread out among the small space. There is a jukebox serenading everyone and pool tables that are occupied. The bar itself is in the very center and given the fact that it’s a Tuesday night, the place is full. _

_ It is full of conversations told in loud voices, all of them competing with the classic rock music that dominates the atmosphere, classic rock music that Becky can definitely get on board with. _

_ Becky notices her straight away. _

_ Her blue hair is what catches Becky’s eye initially. It is pushed up in a messy bun at the top of her head and she is wearing a tight black tank top and ripped jeans that make her seamlessly fit in with the whole vibe of the place. _

_ Whoever she is, she is a regular, Becky decides. _

_ Becky walks to where the woman is seated at the bar and pulls out the seat next to her. After a few moments, Becky heaves a sigh and says, “What does it take for a lass to get a drink around here?” _

_ The woman turns to her and answers quickly, and if Becky had been paying closer attention she would have recognised it for being too quickly. “Ugh, I know. The service has been garbage tonight. I’ve been waiting for another round for ten minutes now.” _

_ “Well, I wouldn’t keep you waitin’, that’s for sure,” Becky states quietly with a smirk that grows over her face like a lazy teacher’s check mark. _

_ “Oh, I bet you wouldn’t.” The woman turns in Becky’s direction and there is a crease of amusement at the corner of her lips. “Be honest. Does that actually work?” _

_ “Does what actually work?” _

_ “Don’t play dumb,” the woman says, and she’s starting to laugh now, “that line, do women actually respond to that?” _

_ Becky finds herself smiling back and answers, “Eh, it was worth a shot, I guess.” _

_ “Do you have a name then? Or should I just call you lass?” _

_ Becky gives a subtle tilt of her head and considers her response before she settles on answering honestly and extending her hand. “Becky Lynch. An’ you are?” _

_ “I’m way out of your league but it was a nice try,” the woman replies as she takes Becky’s hand. _

_ Becky watches as the woman gets up from her seat next to Becky and it begins to dawn on Becky a little too late because yes, the woman has moved behind the bar, and yes, she looks like she wants to serve Becky a drink now. _

_ “What can I get you, Becky?” _

_ “You… wait, you work here?” Becky smiles again and then says, “where’s your boss then so I can give em’ a report of how bad your service is?” _

_ “Oh, you… you wanna talk to my boss? Well, let me get her for you.” The woman turns around so that her back faces Becky, and she makes a show of letting her hair down so that it trails down and over her shoulders before she turns back in Becky’s direction. “Sasha Banks, at your service. How can I help you?” _

_ Beer Banks. It all clicks in Becky’s head then. It’s actually a pretty clever play on things. Maybe coming here hasn’t been the worst decision she has ever made. _

_ Becky finds herself laughing and says, “First night in town and I just keep sticking my foot in my mouth…” _

_ “Oh, you’re gonna be alright around here, Becky.” _

*****

Becky walks into the dimly lit bar and gives the place a once over. The mood of everyone swirls in unseen currents underneath the surface of their faces. The music is as loud as usual and Becky feels that familiar happy hum in her body.

There’s something comforting about being one of the crowd in Sasha’s bar, an easing to the odd loneliness that Becky sometimes feels but will never admit. She fits in here with her black jeans and beat up boots and her old Springsteen t-shirt and her leather jacket.

What Becky reads on other people’s faces in here is written on her own: the people smiling into their beer, or the people singing along to the music under their breath or the people having animated conversations with their friends. Everyone is comfortable in their own way and there is no one that Becky knows here who feels the need to be anything other than what and who they are.

She takes her regular seat at the end of the bar and when Sasha turns and spots her there’s a beaming smile across her face.

“Would you look at who has finally decided to grace us with her presence. Becky Lynch, security to the stars.” Along the wall is every hue of amber liquid in their inverted bottles. Sasha pours a whisky neat into a glass and slides it along so that it stops in front of Becky. “Shit, you look like death, Becky. Is that Charlotte Flair lady treating you okay? Am I gonna have to throw hands?”

“Nah, nah. Nothin’ like that. It’s just been a rough couple of weeks, y’know?”

Sasha stares at Becky for a moment before she reaches across and places her hand over Becky’s own. “You sure you’re okay? Don’t forget I know you, Becky.”

Becky moves her free hand and places it over Sasha’s, trapping Sasha’s hand inbetween both of her own. “You don’t need to throw hands, relax. It’s just a lot. I’ve never really worked with someone so ‘high profile’ before.”

Sasha gives Becky a look that says they will probably revisit this conversation at some stage. “Ookkayyy, if you say so. But you know I got your back, right?”

“Of course, Sash, I know.” Becky’s face quirks up in a tired smile, one that stretches the skin of her cheeks and lips but never really reaches the height of her eyes. Then she finishes her drink in one go.

Sasha pours out another and asks, “So, what is Charlotte Flair like? Is she really as much of a bitch as she appears to be on TV?”

“Y’know I can’t talk about my clients like that.”

“Well, you let me know if I gotta beat her ass for you.”

Becky glances upwards, her mouth pursed but slightly open and loose. “You an’ Bayley get into a fight or somethin’? Why’d you wanna beat someone’s ass so badly?”

Before Sasha can answer, Becky’s phone starts to ring.

“Give me a second, Sash.”

Even before she has said anything, before Becky even has a chance to as she stands outside, Charlotte’s voice says, “I’m sorry for the other day. I shouldn’t have sprung that on you,” Charlotte adds, and in the background of the call Becky can hear voices, conversation, vehicles and music. She finds herself wondering where the hell Charlotte is. “I know you’re still angry but I wanted… wanted to apologise again.”

Becky doesn’t say anything.

“I’m right, aren’t I? You’re still angry.”

Becky looks out into the street, at the faces that pass her by, wondering if this is some ploy by Charlotte to try and figure her out; if this is a game that Charlotte is trying to play with her.

“It doesn’t matter if I am or not. I expect employers to read my file, but I don’t expect them to bring up things that don’t influence my ability to do my job.”

Becky tries to clear her head.

It really doesn’t matter how much time has now passed, the mention of her life before San Francisco still brings that familiar ache at times. Some days she feels everything at once. Other days she feels nothing at all about it. She doesn’t really know what is worse – drowning beneath the waves of it or aching from the thirst.

“It won’t happen again,” Charlotte says, quietly.

Becky’s voice is lower now, less combative. “Nah, it won’t cause like I said, we ain’t gonna talk about it again.”

“Can we forget about it then?”

There’s a hesitation on the line and Charlotte hears Becky suck in a breath.

“I already have,” Becky answers. “I gotta go, I’ll see you Monday.”

“Same coffee order as usual?” Charlotte finds herself asking.

“Well I ain’t gonna change my order now, am I?”

“Okay, see you Monday, Becky.”

“Alright.”

When she hangs up and pockets her phone, Becky looks up at the sky and she doesn’t see any responsibility there.

Some days it is calm and serene, like it doesn’t have a care in the world. Other days it is angry and bitter, dark and spitting rain down onto everyone.

Maybe that’s why she fits in here these days.


	3. so superior, but you got a heart of gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 3 a few days early :)
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!

Charlotte sits up, rubbing away the sleep from her eyes. It has been a long time since she has had a dream as forceful and as vivid as that, so much so that she feels disoriented and her heart is thumping in her ears, and there is sweat at the stretch of her hairline as if she has some sort of dream fever.

Charlotte used to sleep the sleep of someone who knew who she was.

She knew that she was loved. 

She knew what she wanted. 

She knew where she was going.

And now she doesn’t.

Eventually, though, she feels her body begin to relax a little, the tension being eased out of her muscles and once it goes she hauls herself onto her feet. She walks and stands at the window, watching as the rain falls freely outside.

It is so late that the city feels eerily quiet when she looks down on it, like a city in a colourful slumber.

The spires of the cathedral in the distance climb so far into the darkness that they seem to disappear. Rain thuds against the city’s doorways and windows, water rushes and gurgles in the drains and gutters, and the sky is perfectly black except for the few smudges of grey clouds far above.

Becky’s mad at her, that’s another thing.

Probably with good reason too.

She wonders how she can possibly try and make it right and when she thinks about it, she never really sees Becky without coffee so she thinks that there is a good place to start.

-

Charlotte arrives at the office ten minutes early. She paces around the empty room until she thinks she is going to lose her mind which takes roughly all of two minutes.

If she wants to thank God for small mercies then at least her morning isn’t quite as busy as it usually is. Dana is getting better at being able to schedule things in a way that doesn’t have Charlotte running and ducking for cover every time her phone beeps or pings with a message or email.

There is exactly enough time to manage a very private and stern pep talk with herself before the door to her office opens and Becky steps just inside the door without coming fully into the room.

“Mornin’.” Becky has been up and awake for a while, Charlotte can see it in her eyes. She is dressed in her usual attire except for a tie, which she has apparently decided against today and instead of a suit jacket she is wearing something closer to a black blazer. Charlotte wonders if it is in some sort of childish protest. 

“Becky, hi.”

Becky’s eyes drift down to the paper bag that sits on Charlotte’s desk with the _ ‘Grinders’ _ logo on it.

“I sure hope that’s a bag from the coffee shop down the street cause if not then you might wanna move it.”

“What?”_ Oh. _ “It’s from the coffee shop, you’re safe, don’t worry.”

Apparently, Charlotte’s answer is enough for Becky to come forward into the room. 

“Thank God for that.”

“I got you coffee, and um… well I didn’t know what you liked really,” Charlotte starts, “so I got a few things. Blueberry and chocolate muffins, some butter croissants and cinnamon swirls…”

Charlotte is rambling and Becky watches as Charlotte places each of the items on the desk, lining them up like little baked statues. They are Charlotte’s way of apologising, Becky realises pretty quickly.

And it would be quite funny if Becky were in any sort of mood to find things funny.

“Becky,” Charlotte says, voice soft and sweet like the pastries sitting on her desk, “about what I said -”

“Charlotte.” Becky’s mouth slips into a tight line. “I told you, we aren’t gonna talk about this anymore.”

“I screwed up okay, and I just wanted to apologise. I shouldn’t have brought it up -” Charlotte stops herself mid sentence, lets out a sigh and tries again. “I’m just trying to say sorry, I was in the wrong and I know that.”

“You already called me to say sorry.”

“I know, but I wanted to do it properly.”

“With cakes?”

“And coffee,” Charlotte adds, as if that makes it somehow more meaningful.

The sun is drifting further into the morning sky and streaks of yellow and orange are shining through the huge windows of Charlotte’s office, giving the whole room an orange blush.

Charlotte watches as Becky’s eyes find her own, but her focus seems somewhere else on the window behind her, as if Charlotte has become invisible to her. Charlotte has crossed an unseen line and she is not sure that Becky will understand that this apology is sincere.

Becky swallows and she hates the way that it burns and sticks in the back of her throat. She adjusts herself so that her and Charlotte are standing parallel from each other, and then she leans across towards the desk and admires the smell of coffee before she picks it up. 

“I accept your apology, Charlotte. But you drop it – now.” 

“If they ever made coffee illegal you would have to register as some sort of addict,” Charlotte states with a smile.

“They ever make coffee illegal and I’ll kill em’ all an’ I won’t have any problems.”

Charlotte finds herself laughing and shaking her head.

*****

Becky has stopped thinking about the traffic.

When she had first moved to San Francisco she would stare at the lines of traffic and wonder how anyone got anywhere. The driving doesn’t make her annoyed anymore but she has learnt to always leave a little bit of extra time for even the most local of trips, like this morning. 

On the way to Charlotte’s place, she stops to grab a coffee and a breakfast bagel. As she pulls away from the drive thru, a call comes in so she syncs her phone to the car speakers.

Becky sighs. “What’s up?”

“What do you mean what’s up? Kinda way is that to greet your best friend?”

“Who said you were my best friend again?”

“Bitch,” Sasha says. “I was just calling to check in, you seemed… stressed, I guess.”

“I’m alright. I told you, this job is -”

“Then let someone else do it.”

“I can’t. Talking of jobs, I’m on my way to work so I gotta go. Go bother somebody else.”

Sasha makes an exasperated sound at the other side of the phone. “I told you I would throw hands if you need me to. I’d ask Bayley to help but I can’t corrupt her like that.”

Becky laughs as she takes a bite out of her bagel. “Oh, I’m sure you haven’t done that already. I told you, I’ve got this.”

“I just worry about you, Becky.”

Becky considers not saying anything, but it won’t work. “I know you do, but I’m good. I have to go.”

At that, Becky ends the call and all she is left with is a coffee and a bagel.

It’s not too bad.

-

The building where Charlotte lives looks like it is made of ice, but when Becky is closer to it she can see that it is all glass. It seems to grow right out of the ground like a rectangular glacier and it reflects the morning light like a huge sheet of sparkling diamonds.

Becky pulls into one of freshly painted visitor parking spots a short walk from Charlotte’s building, and it has been reserved for her like Charlotte said it would be. Becky dials Charlotte’s number and it rings for a few moments before it cuts off completely.

It’s unusual is Becky’s first thought. She can’t remember not seeing Charlotte with her phone in her hand and she is definitely not the kind of person who would sleep in. She waits in the car for a few more minutes simply watching people go in and out of the building before she hops out of the car and locks it.

The lobby of Charlotte’s building is classy in a sterile kind of way. It has all the taste for expensive items without much personality – no little out of sync items that make the place feel homely. Maybe that is deliberate though, Becky isn’t really sure. The floor is tiled in fine dark marble that makes Becky’s steps echo. A chandelier hangs from the ceiling and it makes rainbow colours dance across the luxurious lobby. Silk sofas are pressed into the wall so that people can sit and wait. There are flowers positioned strategically around the room, beautiful and the perfect shade of purple to compliment the lighter walls. There are hints of lemon or citrus fruits in the air and it draws Becky in without being totally overbearing.

The front desk looks like it is made up of the same marble on the floor only it is in reverse, the desk is a shade of cream with a dark granite top. The woman sitting behind it looks far too happy for the time of the morning, quite frankly she looks too happy to be doing this kind of work.

“I’m here to see Charlotte Flair,” Becky says. “Becky Lynch. I’m supposed to pick her up but she didn’t answer her phone so I just came in to see if everything was alright.” She pulls her ID out of her back pocket and lets it dangle in the space between both of them.

The woman behind the desk merely glances at it before she goes to the phone sitting on the desk. Becky watches her dial in an extension number before she announces Becky’s arrival into the handset.

“You can go up, top floor, just walk straight on when the elevator opens. You can’t really miss it.” The woman motions to the elevator bay with her hand before giving Becky a smile and then turning her attention back onto the computer.

“Of course Charlotte is on the top floor,” Becky mutters to herself as she walks over towards the elevators. She closes her eyes as the door pings shut, only another fifty odd floors to go - again.

-

The door to Charlotte’s place is ajar, like it has been opened for Becky’s benefit but she knocks on it gently with her knuckles a couple of times anyway.

“Becky,” Charlotte says when she reaches the door. Her expression is friendly, welcoming even but Becky notices how tired Charlotte looks. She also notices the red blush on Charlotte’s cheeks and below her eyes and Becky actually wonders if Charlotte has been crying. “You didn’t have to come up here.”

“I kinda did.”

The uncomfortable moment stretches until Charlotte breaks eye contact with Becky, returning her stare to over her shoulder and then back to where Becky is standing. Becky can’t help but feel that Charlotte is trying not to make a big deal out of the fact that Becky has had to come and get her in this fashion.

“You want to come in?”

“Sure. Everything alright? You didn’t answer and -”

“Fine,” Charlotte waves her off, “just one of those mornings where everything that can go wrong is going wrong.”

Becky can’t help but feel that doesn’t bode well for today. “That’s… great.”

Charlotte is wearing dark jeans and a plain white t-shirt with sneakers that look brand new out of the box. It is the first time Becky has seen her so casually dressed and it almost looks odd, it’s a striking contrast from the usual dresses and skirts that Charlotte usually wears to work.

From the front door, Charlotte leads Becky straight into a living area that is surrounded by floor to ceiling windows that allow the morning sun to flood in, bathing everything in a muted yellow colour.

Charlotte’s place is immense.

It is simple but stylish with expensive looking furniture. The kitchen is to the right of the living area and it is all open plan – everything is modern, spacious and has been decorated with a lot of taste, probably a lot of money too Becky decides.

Becky looks around and lets herself get to grips with the place. She has to admit, Charlotte has taste, and this place is beautiful. “You could fit three of my apartment in this place.”

“Is that a roundabout compliment?”

“I don’t think so. That view though…” Becky lets out a high-pitched whistle. The place is so imposing that it takes Becky a few seconds to notice Tyler who has just emerged from a room to the left.

Becky can see why people would find Tyler attractive.

His eyes are a dark blue, the colour of the ocean, and his hair is swept back from his face revealing a small scar at the arc of his forehead. He looks younger than his age but there is a weird disconnect between his eyes and his face, as if his eyes are older, someone else’s, aged by something Becky doesn’t know.

Charlotte interrupts. “That view is the main reason why I chose this place. I know you’ve met briefly before but Becky this is Tyler Johnson, Tyler this is Becky Lynch.”

“I get that,” Becky answers, and she watches Tyler move towards her. “Nice to meet you officially.”

“Likewise.” His handshake is as practiced as his smile, strong enough to show his strength but soft enough so that it is not intimidating.

“You ready, Becky?” Charlotte asks as she grabs a set of keys from a large bowl that sits on the kitchen counter.

Becky flicks her gaze to Charlotte and then back to Tyler again who is now standing with his arms folded across his chest. Becky has the feeling that she has intruded on something she probably shouldn’t have, and she wonders, quickly, if that is the reason why Charlotte has maybe been crying.

“Sure. Was nice t’meet you, Tyler.”

Charlotte lets Becky head out of the apartment first before she calls out a goodbye to Tyler over her shoulder. There’s no display of affection or sweetness to it and Becky knows for sure that something has happened between them this morning.

They have slipped into silence by the time they step into the elevator together and Becky picks up on the subtle difference in the air that Charlotte’s perfume brings. It’s sweeter than Becky’s own, more summery and light.

“Your place is impressive. Are you rich or somethin’?”

Charlotte huffs out a laugh and shakes her head. “Are you really making fun of me here?”

“Sure.”

“Sure? That’s it? Just… sure?” Charlotte blinks.

“Just sure,” Becky nods.

By the time the elevator announces that they have reached the ground floor, Becky sighs, a deep rumble that comes from the middle of her chest. She doesn’t think she will ever get used to being in one of those stupid metal death traps for so long every day.

“You don’t like elevators?”

“They don’t bother me much,” Becky lies.

“_Sure_.”

-

“So, what is this Royals soccer school thing exactly?”

Charlotte lifts her head slightly from where it is resting against the car window. Warm yellow rays of sun are filtering into the car through the window and she can see the tiny specks of dust that float in the air around them.

“It’s a free program that we do in the community,” Charlotte explains, “we get a few coaches in and encourage the kids to play soccer, meet new friends, get out and exercise. It usually lasts for a few weeks but given my schedule I can only spare a day or two to it right now.”

Becky’s eyes stay on the road but Charlotte watches as Becky considers something, then she clears her throat and says, “You sound disappointed about that.”

Becky has all but made peace with the fact that this is going to be a long term job for her and she is just going to have to make the best of it with Charlotte. And if small talking during the day makes things flow easier between them then that is what she will need to do, as long as they stick to safe topics then Becky is certain that she can cope with Charlotte.

Becky hears Charlotte sigh from next to her and then Charlotte is sitting up straighter against the passenger side seat. “I am, I guess. We donate shirts and water bottles and invest money into the maintenance of the park and that kind of thing.”

“I’ve never heard about it,” Becky admits, “it sounds like something people should hear about.”

“It’s my brain child,” Charlotte states simply, “a few years ago I threw the idea out and my father basically let me develop it into what it is now. We have or had plans to expand it into other areas of the city but given the way things have been well… it’ll probably have to wait.”

“Where did you get the idea from?”

There is a long pause before Charlotte finally says, “I guess I thought about myself growing up.”

It’s the last thing Becky is expecting her to say. “What?”

Charlotte shrugs. “Not every kid has it as comfortable as I did, this way we can help.”

They get stopped at a red light and Becky turns to examine Charlotte’s face. It remains passive and relaxed, unconcerned even like she isn’t bothered about Becky asking her these sort of questions and Charlotte isn’t lying, no. Becky has developed a great bullshit radar over the years and nothing is telling her that Charlotte is being anything other than honest with her right now.

“Well, I think it’s a good idea, y’know expanding when the time is right.”

Charlotte’s face constricts just a little at that. “Let’s hope so.”

\- 

The neighbourhood is under the same sun as the rest of the city and yet it feels devoid of the same warmth. It is a collection of buildings with peeling paint and houses with messy yards, and pocket marked roads that had rattled Becky’s SUV all over the place. It feels very much like a neighbourhood where not much is motivated to grow.

The only thing that seems to be prospering in some way is the park. The grass is mostly vibrant and green, there are a few spots where the grass has yellowed slightly at the corners but all in the park is in pretty good condition.

Becky watches Charlotte practice with the ball with a curious interest. She has always had an interest in soccer but there’s something about watching Charlotte kick a football around with a bunch of kids that makes it intriguing. Becky stands alone on the sidelines, away from the crowd of parents who are scattered around various points of the park.

Becky watches as the coach she now knows as Naomi, passes the ball to Charlotte who takes one touch with the outside of her foot and then hits it towards the goal. It cannons off the post and almost lands directly back at Charlotte’s feet like that had been the intention all along. Charlotte turns then, smiling down at the group of kids with a stupid grin that Becky’s never seen before. They all scramble to high five her and Becky blinks a few times trying to take it all in.

Charlotte looks like she has forgotten all the troubles in her day to day life, she’s beaming and she looks completely carefree like nothing can possibly rain on her parade today. The smiles she gives out all reach her eyes and the laughs that she lets out are organic and authentic in a way that invites other people in.

So much so that Becky finds herself laughing when a group of kids start chasing Charlotte and quickly overpower her in pursuit of the football. They all sprint off into the distance and Charlotte walks casually over to where Becky is still standing before she pulls her palms onto her thighs and bends her knees a little.

She lets out a few harsh breaths before she stands again, and despite the fact that she’s wearing sneakers instead of her usual heels there is still a considerable height difference between them.

“What do you think then?”

“About your skills?” Becky asks, tilting her head from left to right before settling on, “I’ve seen better.”

“You know it won’t kill you to give me a compliment?”

“I doubt we’ll ever need to worry about that,” Becky answers quickly, even though there is a smile pinching at her cheeks.

Despite her words, Becky has to admit that this side of Charlotte is one that she hadn’t really been expecting. Even though Charlotte is in the middle of a storm there is clearly someone gentler at the center of it all.

There are no worry lines on Charlotte’s face here, there is no constant checking of her phone, there is no frown when someone calls her name and there is not a noticeable trace of the Charlotte that Becky has been around in the office.

And maybe part of that has been Becky’s fault for going in with a preconceived notion.

When a group of kids call Charlotte’s name she tells Becky that ‘duty calls’ and she jogs over to where a group of kids are currently arguing about whose team Charlotte should be in. They all finally settle on getting Charlotte for a half each and everyone seems delighted with it, Charlotte included.

Becky eventually concludes that maybe her preconceived notion has been entirely wrong.

*****

_ They decide on the new cocktail bar called Olive or Twist. _

_ The place is stylish with small round tables throughout and a long U-shaped bar in the middle of the space. They take a seat near the bar and chat on and off with the female bartender until it gets busier and then they move to their own two-person table. _

_ “Any luck on the job front?” Charlotte asks before setting her glass down on the table with an exaggerated flourish. _

_ “Nothing yet, I have a few applications in though.” _

_ “If you’re really needing something I can have a word with my dad,” Charlotte says as she takes another sip of her drink through the fancy straw. “Can’t promise it will be much fun for you though.” _

_ “I think I’ll pass,” Nattie responds with a laugh and she takes a healthy drink from her glass too. “You’ve been working there for six months and look as tired as ever.” _

_ Charlotte studies her best friend for a second before she concedes. “Shut up.” _

_ A huge grin spreads across Nattie’s face and she lets out another loud laugh. “I’m just saying.” _

_ “I know what you’re saying,” Charlotte says, and she does a really good imitation of Nattie’s laugh. “Doesn’t mean I have to listen to it though.” _

_ The longer they sit and chat throughout the late afternoon, the more it dawns on Charlotte that she is, indeed, tired and being a total buzz kill. She is fresh out of college six months ago and already in a job that she will probably have for life. _

_ And don’t get her wrong. She loves her father and she loves the Royals but it would have been nice to have other options… _

_ “You don’t have to stay there for good,” Nattie says, like she’s reading Charlotte’s current thoughts. “Get experience there and then do whatever you want to do.” _

_ The group of young girls outside the bar grabs Charlotte’s attention. They are all dressed in the same red tracksuits with the same logos. Titans United. The Royals’ rivals. They all seem to be saying goodbye and getting picked up by parents and other guardians. _

_ Charlotte has to begrudgingly admit that United are miles in front of the Royals in regards to their community work. There’s an explosion in Charlotte’s brain, thankfully it is the good kind, the kind that carries ideas and possibilities. _

-

_ She calls her dad first thing in the morning and explains her idea to him. _

_ Soccer Schools. _

_ She explains how much more the Royals can give to the community, how much better it can look for them, how much kids - who may not get the opportunity otherwise – could flourish with a soccer program that could help them. _

_ He does as he always does, he tells her that she is probably onto a winner and that she can get started on it whenever she has the free time which translates as whenever she is not at work. _

_ It hurts in a way because Charlotte knows he is not all that interested in her idea, he has far more to worry about than this kind of project. _

_ So she decides that by hook or by crook she is going to make this project a success. And it is not just for her but for the kids who haven’t had it as easy as she has; for the kids who need something to motivate them in their life; for the kids who maybe need something else to look forward to. _

*****

Becky is only fifteen minutes into her lunch when Charlotte joins her on her mission to inhale as much food as possible in the time that she is given on her lunch break. Becky has to admit that Charlotte’s company isn’t exactly… annoying anymore.

“What are you doin’ in with the peasants like me?”

“I came to eat in peace,” Charlotte says as she hands Becky her bottle of water. “You left this in your haste to leave the office, don’t worry, I wasn’t offended.”

“I was hungry.”

“Mhmm, I can see that.”

They eat mostly in silence, only exchanging a few words throughout their meals. Becky sits back on the sofa and stretches her legs out, her stomach feels like a dead weight but she doesn’t regret a second of her lunch. Charlotte, on the other hand, looks like she is regretting every bite.

“You alright?”

“Today is crazy as you know, now is the only time I’ll have a chance to eat before dinner so figured it was better to have a late lunch and a big one.”

Becky trains her eyes back up towards Charlotte and then she sighs. “Regrettin’ it now though.”

“A little bit,” Charlotte answers and she brings her thumb and her index fingers close together.

“I forgot to ask you about this,” Becky says, steering the conversation elsewhere, “did you play soccer? Just wonderin’ after watching the other day.”

Charlotte glances over at Becky for a second before returning her attention back onto the water bottle in her hand. “I did when I was younger but it wasn’t something I wanted to pursue professionally.”

Charlotte shrugs, dismissing Becky’s curiosity but Becky has the feeling there is something more to it.

“Don’t tell me you got injured too?”

“No, I didn’t. I just never seen it as a career for me. Becky if you don’t want to talk -”

“It’s fine, I asked you the question.”

“I done kick boxing for a while too,” Charlotte admits, “maybe could have taken you down.”

Becky’s body shakes as a smile spreads to a grin. Then she asks, “Do you honestly think you can take me?”

“I didn’t say it would be a successful take.”

Then Becky laughs and Charlotte watches because Becky hasn’t given this to her often but Charlotte always watches when she does.

“I would have made it professionally.”

“You do strike me as the type of person who likes to win.”

“I always wanted to win, I still do,” Becky confesses quietly. “Second is nothin’, first is everythin’.”

“Is that why you came San Fran? A clean break?”

Becky can’t see anything from where she is sitting, but there are birds out there somewhere, swipes against the blue, flying in the freedom of the cloudless sky.

“Kinda. Finn is the reason I’m here, nothing more than that.”

“So… can you ever box again?”

Becky pauses and sighs then she casts her gaze onto the floor and her eyes darken. She glances back up at Charlotte. “Nah, I’ll never be medically cleared and I wouldn’t wanna now anyway.”

The ache that spreads through Becky again is like a spider’s web, intricate yet strong. She knows it will pass because it always does but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. It is the kind of pain that burns like some sort of invisible flame is being held too close to her skin.

“I’m sorry, Becky,” Charlotte says quietly, even though it feels like she is trying to cover a bullet hole with a band-aid.

“Don’t be. Wasn’t your fault, was it?”

Becky’s eyes blink up to Charlotte, who seems to be suffering from some sort of hesitation despite the fact that anything that has happened in Becky’s life has had nothing to do with her. Charlotte stares back until Dana interrupts them with a soft knock on the door.

“I just wanted to let you know that your meeting is in ten.”

“I know, Dana,” Charlotte answers, “thank you.”

Becky scoops up their trash before dumping it into the bin that sits in the corner. “Back to work we go,” she mutters as she trails out the room after Charlotte.

-

This is the part of the day that Becky has been dreading.

The weekly budget call.

The time where rich men talk about how they don’t feel the need to invest their money into a franchise who’s name is being dragged through the mud - albeit with good reason - despite the fact that they were more than happy to reap the rewards when the Royals were winning every weekend last season.

Every week Becky sits off to the side and hears the exact same garbage on the call, almost verbatim at times. Every week she sees Charlotte rub at her temples and every week she watches Charlotte give her that look of exasperation that tells Becky that Charlotte would probably rather be anywhere else in the world except for there too. 

Tyler hasn’t been on any of the calls until he showed up in Charlotte’s office earlier and insisted on being on this particular call. The inner alarm that Becky has is blaring away at that, she finds that most people don’t insist on something unless they have an ulterior motive behind it.

Tyler had waltzed into Charlotte’s office and insisted he could help Charlotte convince the investors that this situation was on the mend and that everything would be okay sooner rather than later. Becky is not entirely sure how anyone with half a brain could be convinced of that.

Becky doesn’t really know how she feels about Tyler. There is something off about him and she can’t quite put her finger on it, probably because he is none of her business. He has this arrogance about him, it’s almost like he thinks he is a shark and everyone else is a shrimp.

The more she thinks about it the more Becky thinks that she has no idea what Charlotte sees in him. Most of the time, they don’t even appear like a couple. She can’t even recall Charlotte ever calling to check in with him during the day or talking about him with Becky at all. 

Becky is on her way to her usual seat when she feels Charlotte’s fingers wrap around her wrist. Charlotte’s hands are cold and soft against her skin and Becky finds her eyes flying downwards.

“Actually, can you sit next to me today?” Charlotte asks, and there’s a nervous tilt to her voice that matches the anxious look on her face.

“Yeah, course.”

“Thanks, Becky,” Charlotte says with a small smile.

Tyler sits at the opposite side of the table from Charlotte and Becky, barely sparing them a look.

There's tension between Charlotte and Tyler, so much of it that Becky almost feels like she shouldn’t be in the room. They sit knee deep in silence and the air is so brittle that it feels like it could snap, and if it doesn’t then Becky thinks that she might be the one to snap instead.

“Let me do most of the talking, okay?” Tyler says, and the tone of his voice lets Charlotte and therefore Becky know that it is not really a discussion that he is after.

Charlotte can feel the apprehension in her chest waiting to take over despite the fact that she isn’t in any danger. It just sits there like an angry ball propelling her towards the argument that she knows is coming. She raises an eyebrow at Tyler and stares straight at him. “They haven’t been very responsive to me the last few weeks. What makes you think that you -”

“I said, let me handle it. I know how to talk to people like them,” Tyler says it matter-of-factly; calmly, evenly.

Becky looks at Tyler then and notices how still he has become. His face is a mixture of resistance – born out of his arrogance and of annoyance – because Charlotte hasn’t simply rolled over and let him take control of this situation.

Just for a moment there seems to be no sound in the meeting room. Charlotte looks across at Becky and must see something in her face because she ends up rolling her eyes in Becky’s direction.

Tyler starts the call and talks most of the time. Charlotte remains quiet. She's tense; Becky can feel it in the air around them as much as she can see it. The room feels stagnant, like when you breathe in hot and humid air and it coats your mouth, and sticks to the back of your throat.

“I promise you, the franchise is going to recover from this set back. We have actually seen an increase in season ticket sales for the upcoming season -”

Charlotte reaches over and mutes the phone. “What are you doing? That’s not even true. I’ve been reporting -”

“I know what I’m doing, Charlotte,” Tyler says in a pointed tone and unmutes the call.

The investors comment on how this hasn’t been communicated to them and Tyler assures them it is simply an oversight on Charlotte’s part. He then hints that it is due to her lack of understanding and being relatively new to her role, a cheap excuse that the others seem to buy somehow. 

Charlotte mutes the phone again “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Tyler?”

Tyler ignores Charlotte and unmutes the call. He talks for another few minutes before he wraps up the call and Becky is struck with a sudden urge to take a swing at him.

Charlotte stands after he hangs up and says, “How could you say that on the line with all of our investors? You just made me look like an idiot!”

There is something behind Charlotte’s shout, a pain behind it. Becky watches, she watches Charlotte’s eyes and she knows. She knows that the anger is nothing but a shield for pain because if anyone knows what that looks like then it is Becky.

“Look, your father asked me to step in -”

“My father? Why the hell is he getting involved? He made me CEO because he couldn’t be involved anymore because of his own fuck up. When were you going to tell me?”

“I don’t think this is the best time, Charlotte,” Tyler says glancing over at Becky.

Charlotte turns to Becky and says, “Take your break.” 

Becky hesitates and goes to open her mouth but she gets cut off before she can get a word out.

“Please, take your break, Becky. I’ll call you when I need you.”

Becky nods at Charlotte and heads for the door of the conference room. Becky’s eyes move to Tyler, a look of frustration is directed back at her, as if this whole thing is somehow Becky’s fault. It begins to dawn pretty quickly on Becky that Tyler Johnson is not the kind of man who takes no for an answer. He is the sort of man who gets whatever he wants, no matter the price it costs him.

Becky holds his stare for a moment. She has met plenty of people like him before. The world is full of them if you know where to look – bullies who, due to their size, enjoy intimidating others because they can. It feeds their huge ego. It gives them a sense of belonging. It makes them feel above everyone, but the reality is that for most bullies, the intimidation is just something they do to make up for some sort of inadequacy in their life.

And when Becky rearranges the puzzle pieces in her head they begin to fit. Tyler’s own inadequacy isn’t anything groundbreaking to the human condition, it is because he is jealous.

He is jealous of Charlotte and the position she holds currently. She has the power and he doesn’t, and he doesn’t like it despite the fact that he is supposed to be someone who loves her. 

As soon as the door clicks behind her, Becky hears Charlotte and Tyler going at it.

“I knew there was a reason you all of a sudden wanted to be on this call today.”

“Don’t start Charlotte, not again. I’m not in the mood for it.”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you. Don’t you _ ever _undermine me like that again at work. I’m-”

Becky shouldn’t be standing here and she definitely shouldn’t be listening to this.

Becky retrieves her phone from her pocket and walks away towards the break room before she overhears anymore of Charlotte and Tyler arguing.

-

“Charlotte?”

The thought of Becky seeing her crying is mortifying, and Charlotte doesn’t really know what to do. Maybe if she simply ignores her then Becky will get the hint and go and stand outside or go back to wherever she has been for the last hour.

“Charlotte?”

It is her gentle persistence that is Charlotte’s undoing. She glances up and finds herself ensnared by Becky’s gaze. She’s leaning back slightly with her hands in her pockets and her eyes are as welcoming as they have ever been to Charlotte.

And then Becky offers her the most genuine smile Charlotte has seen from her, a perfect, slightly shy smile that settles in her eyes so Charlotte knows that it is honest.

“Are you alright?”

“What do you think?”

A despondency seems to wash over Charlotte, quickly and openly: in her eyes, in her physicality, like something has left the room and taken a little part of her with it.

“So…” Becky starts, taking a seat across from Charlotte at the desk and failing to meet her eyes. “D’you wanna talk about it?”

Charlotte doesn’t answer for a long moment, instead she sniffs and then takes another sip out of the glass of water that is beginning to leave a condensation ring on her desk.

“I mean, you don’t have to,” Becky’s mouth moves and then snaps shut as if she doesn’t know how to proceed with this conversation, and Charlotte wants to laugh at it for some reason because it is usually her in this position with Becky.

“I know I don’t, Becky, it’s okay.”

“It’s been over an hour and you didn’t call me so I thought I better come and find you, y’know. Do my job and all that.”

“How many people do you think are truly happy in the world? Millions? Thousands -”

“Probably about eight to be honest,” Becky says. It is said with another smile and Charlotte knows that one is also authentic. “Sometimes I think people make too much of a big deal about being happy.”

“What do you mean?” Charlotte asks.

“Maybe we should all just try and be content instead of pretending to be happy all the fuckin’ time. I’m content these days an’ it’s not a bad place to be, y’know?”

“Content.”

“Yeah.” 

“How did you get to that place?”

The sigh that escapes Becky’s lips is slow and deliberate, as if she needs the time to process what she is about to say. Her eyes remain fixed on Charlotte and then she says, “After the boxing accident, I hated everything. The world. Disliked most of the people in it too an’ my only friend for a while was whisky at the end of the night. But when you think about it, what use is that?” Becky asks, quietly. “It takes so much to hold onto hate and then you end up losing your grip on what’s important, y’know?”

“So, you just let that unhappiness go?”

“It wasn’t as easy as that,” Becky admits, “but I just took it a day at a time, tried to improve somethin’ every day. Comin’ here was a good thing for me, I needed the clean break. Finn… well, he always has my back and gave me a chance doin’ this, turns out I’m pretty good at it.”

“It sounds like you and Finn have a good relationship.”

“I trust who I am with Finn, and I trust him with me,” Becky explains, “I’ve known him since I was a kid and we used to argue over who could argue the loudest. I don’t ever have to impress him cause he already knows me and what I can do.”

“He’s your family,” Charlotte suggests. “Or, he and you…?”

“Family. Absolutely family,” Becky says quickly, “it’s nothing more than that. He’s like my best friend and big brother all in one.”

“Sometimes,” Charlotte begins, “I wonder what all of this is all about. I didn’t ask to be in this position and I really didn’t have anything to do with what my father was up to.”

Becky’s nose scrunches up and Charlotte lets out a laugh. It bounces around the room like a football, vibrant and heartwarming. It comes in a burst, loud to soft and then nothing at all.

“You really thought I was involved in it all, didn’t you?”

“I told you before, I heard an’ read stories.” Becky shrugs.

“And what about now?” Charlotte asks, her curiosity piqued.

“I don’t think you did.”

“I was only going to work for my father for a few months initially. Nattie suggested that I get some experience and then do whatever I wanted after that. But I think my dad always had visions of me taking over here… just not like this.”

The thing Charlotte is beginning to realise is that every time someone else learns the truth about you it lets you breathe a little bit easier for some reason. And then the person after that is a little easier again, and so on.

“I think Tyler thought he would get the nod,” Charlotte continues, “I think on some unconscious level he thinks I have taken something from him. The other morning when you came to the apartment we had been arguing then too.”

“Kinda figured that.”

“I get it, I guess. Tyler has been with my dad the best part of a decade. My father trusts him -”

“He trusts you more though an’ that’s all that matters.”

“Clearly not enough,” Charlotte says gently. “You heard Tyler in there. My father wanted Tyler to step in for me.”

“Probably cause he doesn’t want you to do it alone, not sayin’ it’s right but I get it. Y’know,” Becky adds. She pauses for a moment, as if she’s trying to select the next words carefully. “It’s alright to get help sometimes. It’s okay to say you need someone’s help. That’s okay. But the way Tyler went about it? Nah.”

“I think I need to try your advice,” Charlotte tells her, “just try and improve something each day. How hard can it be?”

“Hard,” Becky replies carefully. “But you can’t sit here wallowin’ forever. You’re in an uncomfortable position in various ways, no doubt about it, but sometimes when you wanna rise from the ashes you have to burn a little bit first.”

“I suppose so.”

“You’re done burning, Charlotte.” 

Becky reaches over and puts her hand onto Charlotte’s arm and squeezes. There are only so many ways that you can offer comfort to someone who doesn’t really believe it.

And for Becky, this is the best that she can currently do for Charlotte.

-

They end up talking for far longer than they should.

They are only interrupted when Ric calls Charlotte to remind her that they have dinner reservations that she is clearly running late for. Becky offers to drop Charlotte off at the restaurant on her way home and Charlotte accepts the gesture without much complaint.

“Do you need me to come in with you or?”

Charlotte sighs, leans her head back against the headrest and then closes her eyes. “No, I’ve got it from here.”

“How about I walk you to the door?”

“It’s about twenty steps, Becks. I’ve got it.”

“Becks? Seriously?”

Charlotte laughs at Becky’s face and Becky smiles in return and everything feels okay for a moment. “It just came out.”

“It’s okay, I’ve been called much worse. So, you alright then?”

They are quiet again for a moment before Charlotte starts fiddling with the zip on her purse. It is the worst delaying tactic Becky has seen for quite awhile but she lets Charlotte have the moment, lets her take a few breaths and gather herself.

“I’m alright. I’ll see you tomorrow… and thanks.”

Becky watches Charlotte hop out of the car with an amused smile. “It’s okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

On the drive home Becky thinks about her day and wonders what the fuck is happening.

*****

“It’s _ brew_-tiful.”

“Where has it _bean _ all my life?”

“You’re a CEO and yet here you are making coffee puns with me before nine in the mornin’,” Becky muses.

“I’ve had worst starts.”

“Any more puns for me?” Becky asks.

Charlotte tilts her head and bites down on her lip. “Hmm. Let me think about it.”

Dana arrives a couple of minutes later. When she sees Becky sitting across from Charlotte at the desk with her legs crossed and smiling, she pauses at the doorway, as if she isn’t sure whether she is intruding on something. Then she seems to realise that it would now look even sillier if she backed out and shut Charlotte’s office door, so she comes in, and sits a pile of paperwork onto Charlotte’s desk.

“These are ready to go. The sample invite to the Gala is also in there, second from the top, if they look okay then I will get them ready to go.”

“Great,” Charlotte replies.

“If you need anything else, let me know.”

“Of course, Dana. Thank you.”

When Dana disappears and clicks the door shut, Becky’s attention falls back onto Charlotte and she gestures at the paperwork with her hand. “What’s this about a Gala?”

Then Becky picks up the Royals’ programme for the season and has a look over it, her attention all but gone to her previous question.

The inside of it contains a double page spread of the first team photo. The second page in has a note from Charlotte about the season’s aims and what the fans can expect.

There is also a note on the next page from the Royals’ star player, Alexa Bliss. She’s standing with a football at her feet and the captain’s armband wrapped around her bicep. The Royals’ jersey is royal blue with a white collar and there are little crowns printed into the fabric of the shirt.

“You done well to keep a hold of Alexa this season,” Becky says, folding the booklet over. “She’s good.”

“She’s also an old friend,” Charlotte answers, “I didn’t think she would leave us. Alexa likes a challenge, so starting thirty points down should give her something to focus on. Also, the Gala is customary, it happens every year before the start of a season. Players, coaches, investors and even fans can attend but we’ll see this year.”

“You’re gonna tell me I need to be there with you, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Charlotte says, her eyes moving between Becky and her phone. “Dress to impress. You own a suit right?”

“Of course I own… that was a joke, wasn't it? Cause I wear em’ every day?”

“Just a little.”

Then Charlotte gives Becky a smile that looks so startlingly sweet that an unexpected warmth rushes through Becky.


	4. and i know where to find her, just wanna see her smile again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the support on this story so far, it is much appreciated! 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy chapter 4 :)

Charlotte never gets sick.

Only that’s not entirely true because she is almost certain that she is coming down with something bad and she hates it.

Not that Charlotte knows anybody who enjoys getting sick - for what it’s worth - but she hates it with a passion anyway.

When she sneezes and clears her throat again, she finds Becky looking across at her with some sort of sympathetic look in her eye and then Charlotte knows that it has definitely become noticeable, because yes, she’s sneezed like twenty times today and yes, she is counting. 

She ends up in a coughing fit to make things even worse.

“You alright over there?”

“Fine,” Charlotte answers, “I know what you’re thinking but I’m not getting sick.”

“You’re not getting sick? Okay… sure.”

“I’m not getting sick,” Charlotte repeats, and her throat all but goes at the end of her sentence. Maybe if she repeats the words enough then she can will them into existence.

“Charlotte, you’re getting sick. You are sick,” Becky says the words slowly so that they echo around the office. It is like talking to a toddler because Charlotte chooses to ignore her like Becky hasn’t even spoken at all. “Imagine thinking you’re so important that you don’t get sick.”

The sarcastic barb is well placed and Becky gets the reaction that she is looking for because Charlotte’s head snaps up. Forced into movement, Charlotte reaches for her coffee hoping that it gives her some sort of kick up the ass.

“I do not think I am so important.”

A hint of a smile appears on Becky’s face, one whose meaning they both get. Charlotte knows that Becky is just messing around with her.

Charlotte likes it.

-

Charlotte’s head feels like someone has unscrewed it from her body, thoroughly shaken it until her brain bruised and then screwed it back on again. A dull ache spreads through her muscles and there is an odd sort of ringing in her ears so that everything sounds far away.

Slowly, she reaches over for the ice water that Becky has left for her but she recoils at its coldness as it passes by her lips. Her face is red and her skin feels hot and sticky like there’s a thin coat of sweat covering her, despite the fact that she feels cold on the inside.

The more that Charlotte looks at her computer screen the more the room starts to spin and she really does not feel well at all. Her eyes land on a newly arrived email but they shift in stages, like they are dragging on something. She is finding it hard to even focus.

She is absolutely sick.

Becky takes her home early.

Charlotte doesn’t remember much after that.

*****

“So we meet again,” Tyler says when he steps into Charlotte’s office. His hands rest in his trouser pockets, and he narrows his eyes a little in Becky’s direction. He looks as though he is about to lecture a child.

The child being her.

Not fucking happening.

“Looks like it,” Becky answers. “How is Charlotte doin’?”

“She has the flu,” Tyler replies, moving past Becky so that he can rearrange the piles of paper on Charlotte’s desk. “I’ll be here for the rest of the week instead.”

“I kinda thought that when I dropped her off at home yesterday. So, d’you –“

“I think it’s best that you stick around here,” Tyler interrupts, “you are security for us after all.”

“For Charlotte you mean.”

“For the CEO of this organisation actually,” Tyler says. He shuffles the papers again before straightening his back and sitting down onto Charlotte’s chair. “That’s me right now.”

Somehow it doesn’t sound right and Becky thinks that they both know it.

“That wasn’t in my job description.”

Tyler stretches his legs out in front of him and then he moves his neck from side to side, like it is sore from something. “It’s not permanent, Becky. Just for a few days while Charlotte recovers.”

Becky lowers her voice and tilts her head towards Tyler. “Alright. So what are your plans for this mornin’? Since you think I should stick around.”

“I have an interview with the media team about the start of the season in ten, so feel free to take your break now.”

“I just got here, I don’t need a break.”

Tyler clears his throat, breaking them out of the weird staring competition that they have going on. “So you’re a hard worker then, I like that.”

“That’s me.”

Tyler doesn’t say anything else to her and they lapse into an uncomfortable pregnant lull. Becky watches as Tyler clicks through a few things on the computer screen, sighing every so often at whatever he is reading and then typing back short responses to what Becky imagines is emails.

“Guess you better come with me then if you don’t want a break.” Tyler flashes her a smile as he gets up from the chair.

And Becky can only smile back at him because let’s face it, it is polite to smile, even at idiots.

*****

It’s only been two days and Becky is struggling.

Tyler is everything Becky thought he would be with annoying added bonuses that she doesn’t really appreciate in any way, shape or form.

And Becky had thought Charlotte would be a nightmare to begin with, well, jokes on her now. 

And for some reason, Becky is itching to check in on Charlotte and see how she is doing because Tyler has told her next to nothing, he just says she is fine and moves on to the next thing. 

Her and Charlotte have basically spent the last couple of months in each other’s pockets and now that Becky hasn’t seen or spoken to her for a couple of days it feels… odd. 

Becky lets that thought soak in, a frown sliding onto her face as she tries to figure out what that might mean in the grand scheme of things. She conveniently settles on probably nothing. 

The room where she usually eats her lunch is strangely quiet without Charlotte too, who has started joining her more often than not to get some peace and quiet. Becky frowns some more, shifting forward in her seat and then getting up onto her feet.

She makes a beeline for the window. The city spreads below her and the world seems so wide and free. It’s a jumble of shapes, like a child who has scattered toys around and then just swept them altogether to make a plan. It’s a warm afternoon and the sun has been out all day, but somewhere out of sight it feels like there might be rain lying in wait.

Becky debates as to whether now would be a good time to check in on Charlotte herself. Should she call her? Would it even make sense for Becky to call her? 

Texting. That’s the way forward Becky decides quickly. She unlocks her phone and selects Charlotte’s text thread in her messages – and there are plenty of them these days. 

**Becky:** Hey, boss lady… 

Boss lady? What the fuck is wrong with her? Becky grimaces and then deletes the message so that she can start over again.

**Becky**: Hi, just checking in… 

Nah, that’s not it either. Why is this so hard? It’s not like she is even asking Charlotte anything important. It is a damn message about whether she is feeling better or not.

**Becky: **Hi Charlotte, how are you feeling today? 

Becky stares at the message for a few seconds, reading it over and repeating it in her head before she finally hits send. 

Charlotte responds almost instantly.

**Charlotte: **Hey Becks, I feel like I’m dying and I’m cold. 

**Becky: ** You can’t go dying on me, what will I do for work? Think of the coffee puns! It would be _ incoffeenient_. 

**Charlotte: **I’m giving you a death stare right now. 

**Becky: **Oh, I can feel it. You’re probably doing that head tilt thing you do too, huh? 

**Charlotte: **How... how did you know that? 

Checking the time, Becky heads back out of the break room and towards the office. She smiles at the message and she is about to respond when she feels a light tap on her shoulder. 

Becky turns to see Tyler standing behind her, a smile peeling back his lips.

When he smiles, which is often Becky has noticed, his face is like a pencil drawing, detailed and textured, lines and tiny creases carved into the edges of his eyes and mouth. He has a presence about him, a weight that has probably carried him throughout his time with Ric.

It isn’t all that hard to understand why he thinks so highly of himself.

“Are you done with your lunch then? We have an offsite meeting we need to be at in thirty minutes.” 

Becky pauses for a second, studying him. “Sure, just let me get back to Finn and I’ll be right with you.” 

Maybe he can see the lie in her answer because he narrows his eyes ever so slightly before he settles on nodding his head and striding on in front of her as if her answer doesn’t really matter anyway. 

Becky turns her attention back to her message with Charlotte

**Becky: **Drink lots of fluids and make sure you’re taking your meds! Do you need anything?

**Charlotte: **Unless you can make chicken soup from the office then no.

**Becky: ** I’ll check in with you later. 

*****

At first Becky thinks that it is in her head, just part of her surroundings that is blending into her attention as she is walking back towards the office after her lunch.

But then her attention falls away and so does the idea that it is all in her head. Voices. One she recognises as Tyler; the other she definitely recognises but can’t quite place just yet.

Unlike Charlotte, Tyler doesn’t like Becky to be inside the office with him all the time, he’s quite happy for her to stand outside the office and as a result Becky struggles to make out what they are saying. But as she gets closer to the door, the voices shift into focus, like a tuner finding its right station.

“I hope you know what you’re doing.” The woman’s voice is coming from the phone that’s on speaker, there’s slight static but Becky can hear it clearly enough. There’s a British lilt to the woman’s voice and Becky realises she’s an investor who Charlotte has spoken to several times. “I don’t want this venture to have been a waste of my time and money.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Tyler responds, “Charlotte is just new to this, she doesn’t realise that sometimes you need to be ruthless. She doesn’t have a clue about how cut throat it is.”

“Then do something about it, Tyler. She might be a rookie but you’re not.”

“What do you think I’m trying to do right now?”

“We go back a long way Tyler, don’t let me down. You help get this club back on track even if it means getting rid of her and taking -”

“I will get Charlotte to come around to my way of thinking,” Tyler answers, “and if I don’t then I will sort it. You know what she’s like, couple of months and she will be bored of this.”   
  
“And you’re sure about that?”   
  
“I’ve told you before, I know how to handle her. I’ve been doing it for long enough. And I do it well.” 

“You always wanted to be the top dog so prove it.”

When the flash of annoyance comes so does a bad idea but that’s always how it works, isn’t it? And Becky thinks popping her head around the door and interrupting this particular conversation would probably be a bad idea.

It’s that moment where Becky pours her strength into her legs and then into her feet and she uses them to walk away from the office door with her mouth clamped shut and her hands still in her pockets. She doesn’t react or speak out loud because if she does then it will lead to all sorts of problems. 

She feels the gathering clouds of a headache and it settles at the base of her neck, waiting to spread its claws up and around her skull. Tyler has become an irritating presence in Becky’s life this week, like an annoying fly that you can’t swat no matter how hard you try.

Character assassination is apparently the greatest past time of the business world and if that includes your fiancee then so be it. 

Becky’s thoughts drift back to Charlotte and she takes her phone out of her pocket to send a quick text over to her. It would be so easy to chuck more fuel onto the fire and tell Charlotte what she has just overheard but she doesn’t.

Charlotte is sick and Becky is annoyed, and why the hell would she want to make it even worse for the both of them? 

*****

“Did I wake you?” Becky asks.

Charlotte has been drifting on and off to sleep all afternoon but she has been awake for the last half hour and has even managed to make and drink some herbal tea stuff that Tyler says helps with colds and flus.

When she looks outside from her bed the sky is awash with various shades of grey, in places strips of light have managed to break through but Charlotte knows the sky is promising rain.

“No, I’m awake,” she answers. “I actually feel less zombie and more human today so you caught me at a good time.”

“I would have called sooner but I didn’t wanna interrupt.”

Charlotte’s hair is pulled up and loose, and she runs her hand over the back of her neck, there’s still heat coming from her skin and she still feels a little warmer than she probably should.

“It’s okay, I thought you would be glad of the peace.”

She hears Becky laugh at the other end of the phone.

“I have been glad of the peace.”

“Have I missed much this week?”

It takes Becky a couple of seconds to catch up, and then she realises what Charlotte is talking about: work. Becky feels a swell of something uncomfortable at the back of her throat, a flicker of recognition that she should probably tell Charlotte what she overheard because she would want someone to tell her but then she swallows and the swelling falls away with it.

“Nah, nothin’ really. The place is still surviving without you somehow. I mean, I dunno how but it is.”

“I’m sure Tyler doesn’t have good coffee puns like me though.”

Becky rubs at her forehead, trying to suppress her laughter. “Whatever. Did you get your soup?”

“My what – oh – not yet, Tyler has been super busy so he hasn’t been able to get me it yet.”

“Well, I can -”

“Becky, can I call you back later? Nattie is here and she is pulling weird faces at me.”

“Sure. I’ll catch you later.”

When Charlotte drops her phone onto the bed she watches movement pass across Nattie’s face, and she can see the question: why is your bodyguard calling you on a Friday out of office hours?

“Is that related to work?”

“No,” Charlotte answers, “she was just calling to check in. Why?”

Nattie shifts from where she is sitting on the edge of Charlotte’s bed, her eyes flicking towards Charlotte, and then through the bedroom window. But then, a second later, she manages to completely change her expression, as if she has raised a disguise.

“I was just wondering,” Nattie offers. “How are you feeling anyway?”

“Better, but I still feel like garbage.”

“You look like it too,” Nattie shoves gently at Charlotte’s arm and both of them begin laughing. “So, you and the bodyguard are friends now, huh?”

“I took your advice,” Charlotte answers. She pauses but she knows Nattie senses that there is more to come. “I got to know her better and she’s… not that bad.”

“Not that bad,” Nattie repeats slowly, “must be true if she is calling you after work hours to check in on you because you’re ill.”

Charlotte shrugs, and it takes a moment for her to give Nattie her attention again. “I misunderstood her.”

“You making a snap judgment? I can’t believe it.”

Charlotte grabs the pillow from beside her and throws it in Nattie’s direction.

*****

The smell of the bar hits Becky before the noise that rolls in with it, wrapping her up in a haze of beer and bitter whisky. The place is packed which she supposes is normal since it’s a Friday night and most people are done with work for the weekend.

She spots Sasha speaking to Bayley and they appear to be in deep conversation so Becky stands where she is for a moment so that she doesn’t interrupt them. She watches as Sasha laughs at something and then Sasha places her hand on Bayley’s cheek. Sasha nods and then Bayley says something else.

They are happy.

And Becky is happy for them.

Sasha spots her eventually, and Becky knows she can’t stay where she is any longer. She threads her way through the crowd of people until she finds her usual seat at the end of the bar where Bayley is too. Bayley offers her a beaming smile as Becky drops into the stool and then Becky is being enveloped in what can only be described as a bear hug.

“You’d think I hadn’t seen you in years,” Becky mutters.

“I like to hug.”

“You don’t say.”

“That obvious, huh?” Bayley asks.

“That obvious. You spend most of the time being a beamin’ ray of sunshine so it’s not a surprise,” Becky answers, a smile drifting across her lips.

“Usual?” Sasha asks, interrupting them. “Or, has being around Charlotte Flair got you liking the finer things in life?”

“Sasha,” Bayley murmurs, she rolls her eyes and then turns in Becky’s direction. “She’s messing with you, she told me she was going to do this.”

“Oh, I know,” Becky replies, “an’ for what it’s worth, I’ll have the usual.”

An hour later, Becky reaches out for her glass and pulls it towards her. It’s only her and Sasha now in the corner, and the place has thinned slightly in its numbers but the noise is still there, thumping away at the walls and floor; a mixture of music and laughter and conversation.

“He’s like… y’know if there were degrees for being a total moron, he would be a doctor of every fuckin’ thing,” Becky murmurs lowly.

Sasha grins.

“Seriously,” Becky smiles back but it isn’t a smile with any warmth. “I mean, I thought the job would be bad with her but him? He’s even worse. I dunno what she even sees in him.”

“Who? Charlotte?”

Becky nods. “They don’t act like a couple, it’s weird. He’s as cold as ice but he’s always smilin’, like he’s tryin’ to make you like him for some reason.”

“He sounds like an asshole. Maybe they are just assholes together.”

“He is,” Becky answers instantly. She traces her finger around the bottom of her glass. “I overheard him the other day talkin’ about Charlotte to some investor woman on the phone. Like he didn’t even care. She doesn’t deserve that.”

“Why’d you care? I thought she was a pain in the ass too?”

“She was – is even, and I don’t care about their relationship.”

“Okay, that sounds real convincing.”

Becky brushes some hair away from her eyes but she doesn’t say anything for a few minutes. “She’s… she’s not that bad.”

A frown cuts across Sasha’s face, but it is more a look of discomfort than anything else. “Don’t get sucked in with those type of people, Becky. They ain’t our friends.”

“It’s not like that, Charlotte is like…” Becky fades out, and then looks up over her glass. “I’m a good judge of character, y’know that.” 

“What is Charlotte like then?” 

“She’s just not the person you think she is. Or, who I thought she was, I dunno…” She isn’t going to finish and she doesn’t know if it is because she can’t articulate what she means or because she doesn’t think Sasha will understand right now anyway.

“You guys are friends now, right? That’s what you’re going to tell me?”

Becky glances at Sasha, down to her glass, then back up. “I dunno about friends but she’s a good person despite what we thought.”

Sasha loops the conversation around to the point they’d left unfinished earlier. “So, what is she like then?”

“She is like the rest of us, Sash, just tryna’ get by in whatever way she can.”

“And you wanna help her do that?”

Sasha isn’t asking because she doesn’t know the answer. She is asking because she wants to see what Becky honestly thinks, it is almost like a test that Sasha is putting out to her.

“She doesn’t need my help.”

“But you’re probably going to give her it anyway because that’s the kind of person you are.”

Becky shrugs and swirls the whisky in her glass, watching it create a little vortex in the glass. When the liquid settles she brings it to her lips, letting it sit in her mouth for a second before swallowing, dwelling only on the flavour.

“Yeah, probably.” 

*****

The place is all but quiet this early on a Saturday morning. Becky wanders around the supermarket bundled up in a hoodie and a hat pulled low over her head. There’s a faint headache brewing at the back of her head, a residual of last night’s whisky, and the harsh lights above her are too bright for her eyes right now.

Becky hates everything about shopping.

She hates the mundane music playlist that starts repeating itself before she even leaves; she hates the usual crowds and queues; and she hates the special offer deals tempting her to spend even more money on things she definitely doesn’t need.

She has two baskets in her hands: one that contains all the junk she’s going to indulge in over the weekend, and the other that contains decidedly healthier options that’s not even for her.

Chicken. Check. Chicken stock. Check. Vegetables. Check. Ginger. Check. Garlic. Check. Rice noodles. Check.

Becky’s pretty sure the recipe she looked at earlier had another ingredient or two that she’s forgotten but she’s sure this can work.

She’s never made it before but chicken soup, how tough can it be, right?

-

Becky is up to her elbows in chicken when Sasha knocks and then slips inside of her apartment, there’s also vegetables peeled and chopped over to the right hand side in a separate bowl. She elbows the tap, washes her hands and turns around as soon as she dries them.

“What are you doin’ here?”

The kitchen area is a bombsite and Becky knows it. There’s also a mountain of dishes starting to pile up into the sink and there’s several bowls scattered around on the worktops. One with the vegetables, one with the spices and one with nothing which has Becky frowning because she can’t remember what that is even for.

“Um, what are you doing, Becky?”

“I’m makin’ soup.”

“Oh, that’s what that is.”

Becky finds herself frowning again. “Yeah. I made my own stock and everythin’. Just cause I don’t cook often doesn’t mean I can’t.”

“So, Charlotte gets sick and you’re making soup, that doesn’t seem like a coincidence to me.”

A helpless smile pulls at the corners of Becky’s mouth. “Do you wanna stay for lunch or?”

“Duh, I have a headache from last night and I haven’t eaten all morning. What is that smell?”

“The soup?”

“No, it’s like…” Sasha scrunches her nose in Becky’s direction, “ginger or something?”

“Oh,” Becky says, “it is ginger, it was in one of the recipes I read for this soup.”

Sasha moves towards her, pausing a few feet away to look into the pot. Then she turns and walks around to the sofa, where she kicks her sneakers off and sinks into the couch.

“I heard ginger was good for colds and flus,” Becky eventually offers with a shrug.

*****

Charlotte opens the door to her apartment and gives Becky a weak wave in greeting. “Hi. Thanks for coming over.”

She is wrapped up in a hoodie that’s clearly too big for her and Becky follows her into the apartment before they head towards the kitchen area. Charlotte has already made coffee and has a mug out for Becky on the counter.

Charlotte’s cheeks and nose are still a bit red where the last of her flu is lingering but Becky can tell by her voice that she is feeling better, it’s less hoarse and raw, and Charlotte almost sounds like she usually does.

“I made you soup.”

Charlotte tilts her head and then her eyes crinkle a little, she looks like Becky has just done her the biggest favour in the world. “You made me that?”

“Chicken noodle soup from scratch. You said you hadn’t had any so I brought you some.”

Charlotte walks over towards the coffee pot, pouring a generous amount into a mug before handing it to Becky. “I made you coffee, can we call it even?”

Becky sighs and considers the question for a few seconds. “I guess so. You sure I’m not interruptin’ anythin’?”

“No, Tyler has gone out for dinner and a few beers with some friend of his so I could use the company,” Charlotte gestures with her hand before reaching for the tupperware dish. “Do you mind if I heat this up now? Feel free to sit down.”

Charlotte busies herself with heating up the soup while Becky is pretty much left to her own devices. She takes a sip of her coffee and it is hot and strong, just the way she likes it at times. Becky is drawn to the view from the window again and she wonders what it must be like to wake up to this view every day. The view from her apartment is great but it has nothing on Charlotte’s.

With the day beginning to give way into night, the city below is alive with lights and colour, like someone has taken a handful of pretty glitter and just thrown it as far as they possibly can.

It’s strange to realise that Charlotte has become some part of her life now and perhaps not just in a professional way. Well, obviously not just in a professional way because Becky can’t remember many clients who she has ever cooked soup for.

She can remember, it’s none of them, but whatever.

“I didn’t realise you were so domestic,” Charlotte says. Becky watches her pull out a bowl from one of the cupboards and she tips the soup into it before stirring it gently with a spoon.

Becky rolls her eyes in Charlotte’s direction before she fixes her attention back onto the city outside. “It happens sometimes.”

“I can see that,” Charlotte tells her, forcing herself not to devour the soup like a savage because it smells so good. “Family recipe?”

Becky looks over her shoulder and speaks. “Honestly? Nah. I got the recipe online and it looked like the best one so I went with it.”

“Mhmm, that sounds like you.”

The soup is delicious. The chicken and noodles are soft and practically melt in her mouth, and the stock is full of flavour. By the time Charlotte is halfway done eating, Becky is sitting across from her at the bar with her coffee half finished too.

“So, did you have a good night last night?” Charlotte asks as she takes another spoonful of soup.

“I did. Sasha and I probably kicked the ass out of it a little though,” Becky answers honestly. “Whisky is the devil.”

“Did it lead you two astray?”

Becky hurries to swallow the mouthful of coffee she’s currently taking. “It wasn’t anything like that, Sasha owns the bar. It has its privileges.”

“Like staying open especially for you both after hours?”

Becky grins. “Bingo.”

Charlotte shakes her head and then sits the spoon into her now empty bowl. They look across the breakfast bar at each other and they stay like that for a moment.

“Don’t you have anything better to do on a Saturday night than be here with me?” Charlotte asks.

“Like?”

“I don’t know,” Charlotte shrugs, “a date or something? I can’t remember what people do on a Saturday night anymore.”

“A date?”

“I’m sorry,” Charlotte states, and she holds up a hand in front of Becky, “that’s none of my business.”

“Nah, no dates tonight,” Becky answers. And then she steers the conversation away from that particular topic. “You back to work on Monday?”

Charlotte rolls her eyes, swallowing back a groan that tells Becky that the last thing she really wants to think about is work on Monday. “I’ll be back on Monday, yes.”

“Peace shattered then.”

Charlotte tilts her head and narrows her eyes. “Do you ever stop?”

Becky purses her lips as if she is seriously contemplating Charlotte’s question. “Nah. Just tellin’ the truth.”

“Hey,” Charlotte protests and she leans across to shove at Becky’s arm. “I’m going to go on a run tomorrow morning, try sweat the rest of this flu out so I’ll be good for Monday.”

“That’s what I do too.”

“You want to come with me?”

“To go on a run with you?” Becky puts her chin onto her palm and watches as Charlotte begins to tidy away the empty bowl and spoon. It takes all of two minutes before she’s back sitting across from Becky. “I wouldn’t wanna embarrass you.”

Charlotte bursts out laughing at that, and Becky finds herself liking the sound of it. Once Charlotte gets her laughter under control though, she straightens her posture and purses her lips. “You wouldn’t.”

Becky’s quick to press her free hand flat against her chest, showing feigned hurt. “Why are you lyin’ to me like that?”

Charlotte’s head falls back with laughter, louder than before and Becky can tell that it is genuine.

“I’m not,” Charlotte eventually says. “So, how about it?”

Becky huffs out a loud breath and rolls her eyes, giving up the fight. “Fine, I’ll come with you tomorrow.” 

By the time Becky leave’s Charlotte’s apartment she is exhausted. She wants nothing more than to go home and pour a glass of scotch, and sit at the window and watch the world go past. Usually, when Becky’s tired, watching the quiet of the park helps her relax.

As soon as she gets home and walks in, she goes straight to the kitchen, throws some ice cubes in a glass and pours a double of Johnny Walker Double Black.

Finally, Becky lets out a deep breath. She sits at the window and watches the fountain in the park flickering in and out underneath the city lights. Just as she puts the glass to her lips her phone goes with a new message.

**Charlotte:** Don’t be late tomorrow morning.

Becky doesn’t know if it’s the scotch that’s sending a burning sensation through her or the message, but somehow, she forces out a smirk. One of those smirks that would make her look like a right asshole if anyone could see her.

Before heading for a shower, Becky takes a gulp of the scotch and pours the rest of it down the drain. Tomorrow morning isn’t a day to have any sort of hangover.

*****

There are expanding patches of blue underneath the clouds that the morning brings, it’s the sort of hue that is soft yet bright at the same time. Though beneath the cloud there’s a leading edge that is a brilliant white colour, as if it is the pages of a new book that is ready to be read.

Becky reckons this is a day that could bring sunshine or rain, she is thinking more sunshine right now but who knows in this city. She looks upwards as she gets out of her car and the clouds are moving again, they move as much as the ocean that rumbles in the distance.

She finds herself handing over her keys to the valet; an arrangement Charlotte had spoken to the valet guy about and text Becky about earlier this morning.

Becky carries two green smoothies in a paper cup holder, the smoothies are the colour of autumnal vegetables – the deepest green, and in all honesty, they look quite horrific. Becky hopes that they taste better. She had picked them up on the way for her and Charlotte to have before their early morning run.

“Good mornin’,” Becky says to the concierge. “Charlotte -”

“Good morning, Becky. You can go straight up, Charlotte told me to expect you around this time.”

Becky nods and smiles back as she walks over and presses the button and waits for the lift. It’s empty as it usually is, and for an apartment building so big she wonders where everyone is because she’s never been in this lift with anyone else other than Charlotte. She is actually beginning to wonder if this is Charlotte’s own private elevator or something.

She lets out a breath by the time she gets to Charlotte’s floor and she knocks on Charlotte’s door. After a few moments, she is greeted at the door by a very tired and hungover looking Tyler.

Becky hopes his hangover is a total bitch.

“Hi, Becky,” Tyler says in a sleepy voice.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I thought Charlotte would be -” before she can finish her sentence, Charlotte pulls the door open wider behind Tyler. She looks more refreshed than she did yesterday and Becky can tell she is feeling much better today. 

“Hey, Becks, come on in for a sec,” Charlotte says over Tyler’s shoulder. 

Tyler doesn’t really give Becky another look before he turns away and disappears back into the apartment somewhere.

Charlotte looks down at Becky’s hands and smiles, “What’d you got there? Is… is that my favourite smoothie from Buzz Berry?”

Becky looks down at her hands, a smirk forming on her face. “Well, I dunno if it is your favourite, I just asked for the healthiest one and they gave me this,” Becky says as she shrugs her shoulders.

“Becky Lynch having a ‘tree hugger’ smoothie. I never thought I’d live to see the day,” Charlotte says, her smile growing wider.

“Yeah, yeah,” Becky says handing a smoothie over to Charlotte.

“Thank you, Becky. That’s very sweet of you.”

When Becky looks up there’s a gentle movement that passes across Charlotte’s eyes, like she is on the verge of saying something else but then she stops herself.

Becky feels the tips of her ears beginning to turn red. “Ah, don’t mention it. You’ll need all the help you can get to run against me.”

Charlotte gives Becky an unimpressed look, “You ready for me to embarrass you?” 

“Let’s go.”

-

Charlotte covers the uneven trail with the ease of someone whose ankles are made of tightly coiled springs rather than the sinew and bone that the rest of us have. Each one of Charlotte’s strides are worth two of Becky’s, and Becky has to admit that she may have underestimated Charlotte’s stamina for this sort of thing.

“Have your legs always been so short?”

Becky glares at her from the corner of her eye, but she follows Charlotte’s gruelling pace without any complaints. “My legs work just fine.”

“Uh huh, if you need me to slow down -”

“I don’t,” Becky answers, instantly. She can feel her heart throbbing inside her chest and her feet pound the trail a little harder than she would like. “This is a piece of cake for me.”

“This is me going slower than usual.”

“Of course it is,” Becky huffs.

“Want to make it interesting?” Charlotte asks. “First one to the end of the trail wins?”

“What do I win?”

“Well,” Charlotte says with a laugh, “I dragged you out to do this with me so if you win you can make me do something with you.”

“Alright, you’re on.”

Charlotte takes off without another word, with speed and strides that Becky’s legs simply can’t match. Becky can smell the water in the distance and the earthiness of the dirt trail, and the headiness of the trees around them.

She decides to focus on the burning in her legs and the way her lungs contract because they are beginning to ache for more air. When she looks up, Charlotte is a good few paces in front of her and her blonde hair is whipping back and forth behind her.

Sure, Becky enjoys running, but there’s something different about this.

There is something about this challenge that Charlotte has set. There is something about the fact that Becky can _win_ again that has the blood waking up her brain, though she is already very much awake.

It is as if there is a trail of gunpowder in her veins and Charlotte has held a match close to it. A smile grows across Becky’s face of its own accord and she doesn’t have to let Charlotte see that she has ignited it because Charlotte is still stretching out a healthy lead.

The lead lasts for another mile or so until Charlotte is slowing up in front of her and then she starts jogging on the spot, and how fucking insulting is that?

“You’re an ass,” Becky calls, “you still won’t win!”

“I’m actually giving you a chance, Becks, I’m getting pretty lonely running up here on my own.”

“I’d keep runnin’ if I was you, I’ll still win,” Becky shouts again.

Charlotte shrugs and then starts off again and the ground blurs below Becky’s feet. The sound of her footsteps echo in her ears and she feels sweat gather at the top of her forehead and sink into her hair. The kick she develops from seeing Charlotte so far in front of her just spurs her on and the soles of her shoes hit the trail quicker as a result.

Becky is gaining with every passing second.

She continues to push on and before long the sign post for the end of the trail has emerged. Becky has managed to close the gap to within twenty paces and she can tell Charlotte is beginning to tire now, her legs aren’t lifting high off the ground and her strides have stopped swallowing up the ground with ease.

Becky is going to win.

She passes Charlotte without a word about ten paces before the end of the trail and she feels the release of energy that it brings to her. It floods into her body like it is on an intravenous drip – right into her bloodstream at full pelt. 

It is a familiar high, even if it is not on the same scale that she has been used to in her life, but a win is a win, right?

By the time she crosses the unofficial finishing line her breathing becomes more rapid, more shallow and the thoughts are accelerating inside of her head, and Becky wants them to slow so she can breathe but they don’t. They come in sharp gasps and she has to bend over so that her hands are on her thighs, trying to make everything slow to something her body and brain can cope with.

“Hey, you’re okay,” Charlotte says, she has an unsure hand on Becky’s back, but before she can start rubbing circles onto it, Becky stands so that she’s facing Charlotte’s direction.

“I’m alright. I’m _ good, _ actually.”

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely.”

The smile starts in Becky’s eyes before it spreads to her mouth and Charlotte watches it erupt like a sunrise lighting up her whole face.

“How the hell did you do that?” Charlotte asks. “You were a mile behind me!”

“You might be quick, Charlotte, but you forget that boxers – even retired ones like me - need stamina, an’ I have plenty of it.” 

“I guess you win then.”

“I told you I would, an’ you wouldn’t listen.”

Charlotte hums next to her and then walks a few paces past the end of the trail that opens up into the quiet park. There’s a conveniently placed bench close by that Charlotte heads towards. The bench is typical of the parks around here; the cedar brown marries the iron that curves into the bench arms. Charlotte stretches her legs for a few seconds before she sits on it and she motions Becky to join her.

“So, what are you picking as your prize?”

Becky seems to fall into the bench as she sits down, all of the tiredness and adrenaline seeping out of her muscles. “I always fancied goin’ to Alcatraz.”

“You’ve never been?”

“Nah, never had the time really.”

“Okay, you got a deal, Becks. I’ll go there with you.”

While they watch the morning traffic in the park pass them by, Charlotte talks about her sick week and Becky tells Charlotte a little bit more about her own week with Tyler.

As they continue talking, Becky catches sight of a man watching them from across the park. As soon as they make eye contact he looks down at the phone in his hand. Becky watches for a moment, waiting for his eyes to drift up for a second time, but he just continues staring at his phone. Becky turns back to Charlotte as she talks. Ten seconds later, the man is looking at them again.

“Becky, you okay?”

The man is looking away again now, and Charlotte has noticed Becky staring at him.

“That guy over there – do you know him?”

Charlotte looks across. “I don’t think so.”

“He keeps looking this way.”

“It’s probably me, just ignore him.”

They carry on talking, a couple of times Becky glances in the man’s direction, but doesn’t catch his eye again. Then, a few minutes later, he suddenly isn’t there anymore. Where he’d been standing is empty.

“You wanna get out of here?”

Becky has always been a real believer in intuition. There is a primal part of the brain that attaches every human being to a threat. That part becomes fully engaged the minute Becky puts her clothes on in the morning.

“Sure, let’s go. Winner.”

Becky laughs.

*****

The pictures end up on the internet the following afternoon while they are in the office. 

“Becks, you know that guy you saw when we had finished our run?”

“Yeah?”

“I think he was a reporter, look at this.”

Charlotte turns the monitor of her computer around so that Becky can see it from where she is sitting. Becky immediately recognises the look in Charlotte’s eyes when she does so, she has seen it before in people that she has worked for: Charlotte is worried that she has some how put Becky in an uncomfortable position. 

The series of photos are of the two of them sitting on the park bench together, and in one of them Becky is smiling in Charlotte’s direction. A fully blown genuine smile that reaches her eyes and shows her teeth.

It’s strange to see that kind of expression on her own face in a photo like that with Charlotte.

Becky’s intrigued but she doesn’t say anything.

It is like she is looking in on someone else rather than herself.

“It’s strange that they’ve chosen now to post something like this,” Charlotte says, snapping Becky back into the atmosphere of the office.

“Nah, not really. At work they expect you to have security so I blur into the background.”

“You’re a shiny new toy for them at the weekends because you’re with me?”

“I guess so.”

Charlotte scratches her fingernail along her jaw, and she sucks in her lower lip before she says, “Lucky me.”

Becky rolls her eyes in Charlotte’s direction and she finds Charlotte beaming back at her. She watches as Charlotte sweeps her hair back and lifts her head, eyes sparkling in Becky’s direction.

Becky had always known it was a bad idea to take this job. She had told Finn straight away that coming near Charlotte Flair would be a massive mistake.   
  
And it has been.

Just not in the way that Becky had first thought.


	5. san francisco, you're gonna meet some gentle people there

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Think of this as an early Christmas gift - it's warm and fun and full of softness. 
> 
> Spoiler: The pressure is really going to crank up after this chapter so I hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> Thank you again for the lovely reviews and kudos' etc, they mean the world.
> 
> For everyone who celebrates Christmas and New Year - have a fantastic holiday season and if you don't celebrate it then have a great couple of weeks anyway! 
> 
> And if you would like to come talk to me on tumblr, feel free: borntorunnn

The matte black Porsche comes to a rolling stop outside a pretty apartment complex - the apartments look stylish and modern on the outside and there’s a quaint park on the opposite side of the road. The car sits low to the ground and the shape is as smooth as a raindrop; the curves of the car look almost organic. Charlotte is sitting in the driver’s seat with so much soft leather around her that she can hardly hear the engine but she can feel the capability of it under her hands.

The sky over the city is completely clear of clouds which allows the late morning sun to bathe the city in its increasing warmth, the solar rays reflecting from car tops and apartment windows like powerful laser beams.

Becky is shutting an innocuous looking garage door that is unmarked save for the relatively fresh coat of black paint. She hasn’t noticed that Charlotte has arrived yet so Charlotte takes a moment to just watch her. She watches as Becky blows hair away from her face and frowns when the key to lock the garage door doesn’t work straight away, and then she watches the smile form on Becky’s face when she finally notices Charlotte is here.

Nowadays Charlotte likes her.

Quite a bit, if she’s being totally honest.

Sometimes she likes Becky for her smile. Sometimes she likes Becky because she doesn’t smile. Sometimes she gets this faint sensation in her chest when Becky brushes her hair away from her face and catches Charlotte looking at her.

It doesn’t matter that they are maybe strange little reasons to like someone, Charlotte just knows that she likes her.

Charlotte lowers the window as Becky walks the short distance across the path and she can see Becky visually appraising the car.

“This,” Becky says, nodding towards the car, “is pretty impressive.”

“You like it?”

Charlotte takes one look at Becky’s face and she knows instantly that she does.

“It’s a thing of beauty is what it is.”

“I thought it would make a change from being cooped up in an SUV all day again,” Charlotte says and then she tilts her head, “better jump in.”

Becky is already settled into the passenger side seat and buckled in, when Charlotte pulls away from the sidewalk. Becky appreciates the way the engine starts purring, then revving, and then it is all about the drive and the speed. Becky wouldn’t mind a car like this, something entirely different to her bike and SUV.

Charlotte turns the radio on so it provides some background noise and lowers the window on Becky’s side so that the gentle breeze coming in is blowing through her hair. They are mostly content to just sit in the sound of the music but by the time they come to a red light, Becky is beginning to get a tad restless in her seat.

“You okay?”

“I don’t like surprises,” Becky answers as she stares back out the car window.

That makes Charlotte look across at her. 

The sun is highlighting Becky’s profile beautifully. She focuses on Becky’s eyes - which are slowly moving back and forth watching what is going on outside the car - shining in the sunlight. They are a deep, earthy brown – the colour of the earth after there has been a downpour of rain. But there is something else in them, something shimmering, like an old penny being examined over the flames of a fire. They are rimmed with long, thick eyelashes that brush Becky’s cheek every time she blinks.

Charlotte doesn’t really notice when Becky turns around fully. She is just looking at Becky and after a second or two she becomes more than aware that Becky is looking at her too.

“What?” Becky asks, breaking Charlotte out of whatever bubble she has been in.

“Nothing,” Charlotte answers, “I was just thinking that it was predictable that you wouldn’t like any sort of surprise.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You just don’t seem the surprise type really.”

Becky shakes her head and rolls her eyes as the car moves forward again. “I’m not, they are unpredictable an’ nothing good ever comes from them.”

“So, why did you agree to come with me today then?”

“Because I had nothin’ else to do.”

Charlotte scoffs. “That’s great… I guess you don’t want to go to Alcatraz then.”

Becky makes a face at her. “How the hell did you manage to get tickets for that so quickly? They are always sold out months in advance.”

“Being me has its privileges at times,” Charlotte murmurs, “I thought we could grab lunch and then go. I kind of owe you after you made me soup when I was sick last week so I thought I’d help arrange this since you picked it for winning on our run.”

Becky sighs and settles back against her seat, running her hand through her hair. “I guess that sounds like a fair deal.”

“You guess?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t you think it is funny how the roles are reversed? It’s usually you driving me around.”

Becky thinks everything about her and Charlotte is beginning to get funny - in a really surprising way - but she doesn’t say anything. She can’t put her finger on it or place it either but there’s something between them. It’s strange and comforting all at the same time, even if she doesn’t quite understand what it is supposed to mean.

“It’s nice to have a day off from drivin’ you around,” Becky finally says. “An’ thanks… y’know for this but I have one more favour to ask you?”

“Sure.”

“When can I get a shot of drivin’ this car?”

Charlotte smiles, her whole face changing as if Becky has just said the funniest thing. “Hmm. I’ll think about it.”

*****

_Becky wonders how much concrete and steel it took to build the bridge she is currently standing on. She looks up and sees the variations in the hue, how parts of it have been weather beaten and eroded. She wonders if thousands of years from now when the rest of the city might not be here, if the bridge will still remain in some form, like some fossilized bone._

_She is drenched in sweat; it soaks the vest on her back like a map of foreign land. The sun beats down on her with a wrath that she is just not used to and it is punishing. She can feel her shoulders and arms beginning to turn red as they burn._

_Becky holds tight onto the railing, her knuckles white. She leans forward so that she can see the ocean directly underneath her. Yesterday when she was here the sea was almost laid flat, much like her emotions, as if one of them is a reflection of the other. Today is the same, the waves are harsh and choppy, like her own personal mirror that is made of liquid – breaking and flowing all at the same time.  
  
She stands and lets the feeling of the place fill her. It is a feeling of reverence and awe, serenity and belonging. Through blurry vision she drinks in the sight of the waves, listening to the slight roar of them too. You can taste the ocean here, well Becky can, and she feels it on her lips and in her lungs when she swallows. _

_It feels like her soul is being opened up and swept clean of everything she has been carrying around with her. It is probably the closest she has ever come to a spiritual experience._

_Her tears drip from her chin and she wonders if any of them will reach the surface of the ocean, if any of them will become one with the sea. Maybe her tears can flow around the world now, and there’s a part of her that longs to do the same, just drift off into the vast ocean and see where it takes her._

_“I’m not sad,” Becky says. “That’s not why I’m cryin’.”_

_“I know that,” Finn says, coming to lean his elbows against the railing next to her. “It’s freein’ out here, huh?”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“You get plenty peace.”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“An’ y’don’t think too much.”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“I told you, Becky, you can make a fresh start here,” Finn says kindly, with just a dash of sympathy, not enough that Becky protests against it. “You can work for me, your apartment is great, there’s always places to run and clear your head-”_

_“You don’t need to sell it to me anymore, Finn,” Becky chuckles, wiping the back of her hand over her eyes. “I’m already here.”_

_She looks forward again and stares at the little island in the distance. The building is visible but the rest of it is just a mish mash of greens from the foliage that surrounds it. There’s a few boats heading towards it and there’s another few going the opposite way and away from it._

_“Al Capone learned the banjo while he was in there,” Finn announces, “ended up playing in a prison band called the Rock Islanders.”_

_“Shut up.”_

_“He did!” Finn says again, with a laugh. “Check it if you don’t believe me.”_

_“I wanna go,” Becky says._

_“It takes ages to get tickets, hot tourist spot. You need to book em’ a while in advance.”_

_“I’ll get there eventually then,” Becky answers.  
_

*****

The waitress delivers Becky a plate of towering pancakes dripping in syrup. The sweet smell of the fluffy goodness has Becky’s stomach rumbling in appreciation. She pushes back the tall glass of lemon water to make way for the food that is about to be introduced to her stomach. Becky dips her finger into a pool of thick syrup and brings it to her lips as the waitress hands Charlotte her own stack of pancakes with bacon.

Staring isn’t quite the word for what Charlotte does, though it would probably fit the dictionary definition to a tee. Her eyes rest on Becky, not unblinking but slowed; yet the effect is soft and inviting more than anything else. Maybe it is her lips that give away her intention, not quite smiling but tilting as if they intend to, because Becky looks up and across at her.

“Didn’t anybody tell you it’s rude to stare?” Becky asks, never taking her eyes off of Charlotte’s own.

Charlotte looks back down towards her plate and then reaches for the syrup. “I wasn’t staring.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“I was not staring,” Charlotte repeats, and there’s every reason why she should feel flustered about Becky calling her out because she was absolutely staring.

And Becky absolutely caught her.

When their eyes lock over the table, the hard expressions of only a few months ago has all but evaporated. Becky holds her gaze, but instead of icy hostility it is only warmth.

Becky cracks a joke about it being a ‘strange staring contest’ and she snorts, her face relaxed but tilted back so that Charlotte can see the full extent of her smile and it sucks something out of Charlotte for some reason. 

After a few seconds Becky returns her attention back onto Charlotte, her eyes still; then she says, “So, are we gonna eat or what?”

“Yes, Becky, we can eat.”

“Thank God.”

“Go wild.”

Becky laughs again, and digs into her pancakes, shoving an incredible amount into her mouth and Charlotte can do nothing but laugh before she does the same.

-

Becky has been so lost in looking out the window of the restaurant and towards the bridge that she doesn’t hear Charlotte initially. When she turns her attention back towards the table, she steals a glance at Charlotte and realises that Charlotte has actually said something.

“You’re still coming though, right?”

“To where?” Becky asks.

“The Gala.” 

“Oh, yeah, I can still be there. I just won’t be working officially. Finn gave me it off so.” Becky lifts her shoulders. “I can’t turn down a night off.”

“I figured it would be easier using Finn’s company for it than bringing in another security contractor. It just didn’t make any sense.”

“Nah, he appreciates it, it’s a great gig for Finn.”

Charlotte rocks her head from side to side, as if she doesn’t really believe Becky’s answer. “Do you want to bring someone with you? It wouldn’t be a problem at all.”

Becky cups her glass of water between her hands, rolling it backwards and forwards gently, watching the liquid slosh around inside and then she looks up at Charlotte. “There’s no one to bring.”

Charlotte doesn’t reply instantly, but her eyes linger on Becky, as if she wants her to elaborate on what she has just said.

“Sasha?”

“With Sasha comes Bayley, they’re kinda a package deal these days.”

Becky’s eyes flash for a moment, catching some of the light from the sun outside. Charlotte watches as Becky breaks out into a smile, as if she has just said the most obvious thing in the world.

“Okay, then bring both of them.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Of course you can,” Charlotte says, and then she pauses for a moment, “you’ve helped me out a lot the last few months, it’s the least I can do.”

Becky has a smile on her face again, and it goes deep, right below the surface. And when Becky smiles fully Charlotte feels the temperature in the room dip a little and then shoot right back up. It’s a smile that says Becky appreciates Charlotte’s offer even if she won’t say it out loud.

“Alright, I’ll ask them if they wanna go with me.”

“Good. I hope they can make it.”

“Sasha is a big fan of the club, we’ve gone to a lot of games together,” Becky states, “she will probably lose her shit at the thought of meeting all the players in one place. We even have the shirts…”  
  
“Wow,” Charlotte muses, “are you super fans? Have you been hiding that from me all this time?”  
  
“Shut up. I told you I was a fan.”

“Yeah,” Charlotte nods, “but our _shirts _too?” 

A waitress comes over to collect their empty plates and when she wanders off again, Charlotte is looking at her and Becky can only shake her head. 

“You ever wanna play for the Royals?” Becky asks, with the last of her smile finally wearing off her face. “Y’know, when you played when you were younger?”

Becky’s interesting in a way that most people just aren’t or that’s what Charlotte thinks anyway. It is like Becky is some sort of jigsaw and when you think you have finally put it all together you realise there’s still an extra piece you haven’t placed yet so you need to figure it out all over again.

Becky is also beautiful in an understated kind of way and maybe it’s because she is so seemingly unaware of it. Wisps of bright hair are always being swept past an ear and away from her eyes. Her skin is flawless and Charlotte doubts that she uses any expensive products or anything like that because that just doesn’t seem Becky’s way from what she knows so far. 

No, Becky is all about simplicity, making things easier, helping people with what they already have – Charlotte knows that from personal experience.

Becky always carries herself with a purpose, and even if Charlotte doesn’t always immediately know that purpose, Becky does, and Charlotte kind of envies her for it.

Something radiates from within Becky. That is why when she smiles or laughs, Charlotte can’t help but smile along too, even if it is just on the inside. Being around Becky makes her world seem warmer, regardless of the weather outside.

“Yes and no,” Charlotte answers, and there’s a laugh in her voice that makes Becky want to smile again. “If I ever went professional I don’t think I could have played for any other team. It would have felt like cheating.”

Becky raises an eyebrow. “Cheatin’ on a football team? Really?”

“On a football team,” Charlotte confirms, pressing her lips together in firm thought. “Come on, in what world do you see me involved with any other team?”

“None,” Becky concedes, “it’s still an interesting thought though. Imagine you in a Titans United shirt? I think red would suit you.” 

“Shut up, no it wouldn’t.” She knocks Becky’s leg with her foot gently under the table. “Never red.”

“Never red,” Becky repeats, “got it.”

“Have you done this often?” Charlotte asks, after a few minutes of quiet.

“Done what?”

“This,” Charlotte says, motioning between the two of them with her hand. “Became… friends with a client.”

Becky’s face falls, like she isn’t expecting the question or the implications of it. Becky’s eyes narrow in Charlotte’s direction, and she looks at Charlotte in a different way than before. It’s moments like this where Charlotte still finds it difficult to tell what is going through Becky’s head, but the light in Becky’s eyes has started to flicker.

But as quickly as Charlotte sees that, it is gone again, and a lazy smile plasters itself onto Becky’s lips instead.

“Most clients I get friendly with take me to a fancy dinner,” Becky murmurs, her face now lighting up just a little bit more with every word that she says, and Charlotte knows the punchline is coming, “you’re taking me to prison.”

Charlotte blinks.

Becky holds her gaze.

Charlotte blinks some more and then says, “You’re such an ass.”

*****

The ferry to Alcatraz is curious for Becky.

Charlotte tells her to stand at the side of the boat, and to ignore everyone who sits down because they don’t know what they are doing and so Becky follows the orders for a change. Charlotte stands close beside her, so close that Becky can smell Charlotte’s perfume, something she has become increasingly familiar with over the last few months.

It’s lovely.

Becky rolls her eyes when Charlotte bumps their shoulders together again. “Look at that view.”

“It’s basically the same as two minutes ago when you said the exact same thing,” Becky answers.

“Oh, stop being a bore.”

“I’m not a bore.”

Charlotte wraps her arm around Becky’s shoulder, bringing them even closer before letting her go again. “You’ll enjoy today even if it kills you to admit it to me.”

The water sloshes at the side of the boat and the air is filled with a smell that is uniquely associated with open water. Becky isn’t really a fan of the way the boat dips down every now and then, even if it is expected. She lets her gaze wander around the boat and she is surprised to find most women in the immediate area staring at Charlotte who is back resting gently against her shoulder.

Becky figures that most women would want to dislike Charlotte on sight for no other reason that she is the type of woman you would want to dislike on sight. That or they have instantly recognised her and therefore judged her, much like Becky had at the start.

By the time the ferry docks, Becky is in the middle of wondering how the hell Charlotte can deal with this shit everywhere she goes, while Charlotte has spent the time wondering how things between her and Becky are so easy when they probably shouldn’t be.

The first thing they do when they get off the boat is listen to the park ranger give them a little introduction speech. It takes over fifteen minutes and Becky begins to get bored, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet and letting out audible sighs.

“Stop fidgeting.”

“I’m not.”

“Are so.”

Becky huffs. “Fine.”  
  
“If someone had told me a few months ago that we would be doing this today, I would have recommended that they seek some sort of help.”

“Why?” Becky asks.

“Because you hated me?”  
  
“I just… didn’t know you. I’m happy to admit - again by the way - that I fucked that up.”  
  
“Good. But I did the same regarding you for what it’s worth,” Charlotte admits.  
  
“Great.”  
  
“I got it wrong too.”  
  
“Good.” 

After a ten-minute walk up the hill to the building, they enter the prison through an unassuming side door. The first room they get to see is actually where new prisoners would have walked through and something ghosts through Becky at the thought of it.

Charlotte wanders over to have a look in one of the cells and Becky stays where she is, just looking around while trying to hide her excitement for this whole experience.

The park ranger is one of those tall, well built men with cropped dark hair, big brown eyes that make him look like an oversized puppy and a round but handsomely chiseled face that makes him look melancholic. Sort of like a St Bernard dog clad in a dark green uniform.

“Would you like two pairs of earphones for the tour or one?” The voice isn’t what she is expecting from the park ranger. It’s soft yet hard, like a ripe peach. The confusion must be evident in Becky’s face because he turns and points a stubby finger in Charlotte’s direction. “You can share with your girl-”

“Two pairs is great,” Becky cuts him off.

A smile erupts on his lips before he hands them over and moves onto other people.

She doesn’t really know why she does it, maybe she never will - in fact in years to come if you ask her why she did it she will still say she doesn’t know - but Becky slips one of the pairs of earphones that is attached to a small square audio player into her jean pocket and makes her way over to where Charlotte is now reading a sign signaling where everything is.

“Got these,” Becky says, holding out the earphones in Charlotte’s direction as she holds on to the audio player. “Looks like we just press play and follow what it tells us.”

“How are we supposed to share these?” Charlotte asks, “you’re too small.”

Becky makes a face. “I’ll get you another pair then an’ I am not.”

“No, it’s fine,” Charlotte says, “I’m sure we will manage. You want to get started?”

“Let’s do it.”

Becky has never done an audio tour of anywhere before and she wonders how it can even work. The answer is it works pretty well.

The tour leads them around various parts of the prison, and they listen to both stories from guards and stories from the prisoners. They are real people telling her and Charlotte real stories – and it makes for an amazing experience – unlike anything Becky has experienced before. She finds herself lost in the prison, like she has been transported back in time.

She sometimes catches a glimpse of Charlotte’s face changing to react to whatever is being said through the earphone and she thinks Charlotte is enjoying it all as much as she is.

And that settles something in the pit of Becky’s stomach. Her relationship with Charlotte fuses in all kinds of surprising ways and Becky is becoming more and more aware of it.

“You think that’s true?” Charlotte whispers as they walk on past cell 14-D, it’s one of the notorious cells where prisoners were confined in complete isolation. “About it being haunted?”

“Ghosts in an old prison cell like that? Nah,” Becky answers, “of course not.”

“So that’s a yes.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t need to,” Charlotte says as she bumps her hip against Becky’s own.

It seems to spook Charlotte for some reason because she threads her arm through Becky’s own and they continue to wander around attached to each other.

“Are you really scared of some crap about this place being haunted?”

“No,” Charlotte says instantly, “I’m not scared, it’s just creepy.”

“Right, that’s what it is,” Becky mutters with just enough lilt to her voice that Charlotte knows she is just playing.

“It is,” Charlotte protests quietly, “it’s just… this place makes you feel something, like you can feel the emptiness in it. It’s totally fascinating but there’s something… eerie about it.”

“Hmm,” Becky muses from beside her, “that was just a fancy way of saying you’re scared. I won’t tell anybody, Charlotte, you can relax.”

“You’re such an ass.”

“Sure, you keep tellin’ yourself that.”

“You are.”

“Sure. You gotta be quiet now, you’re interruptin’ my learnin’.”

Charlotte huffs to the point where she stands still and Becky basically gets dragged backwards with the earphone that stays in her ear. To anyone around looking at them it must be a comical sight.

“You. Are. An-”

“Wait, lemme guess,” Becky buts in with an ever growing smile, “I’m an ass?”

Becky’s smile is one of happiness growing, much like how a flower opens, Charlotte can see how Becky’s smile comes from deep inside her to light her eyes and spread like roots to every part of her face. Becky smiles with more than her mouth, Charlotte hears it in Becky’s voice too, and her choice of words and the way she relaxes as Charlotte looks at her.

It’s beautiful.

“An ass, yes.”

“I’ve been called worse. Let’s keep goin’, I still wanna learn,” Becky says with a subtle wink, and she pulls Charlotte towards the next part of the tour – the outdoor recreational yard. 

It ends up being Becky’s favourite part of the whole thing.

There she is, stood on the same ground where some of the most dangerous criminals in American history have stood. She is looking at the same view they had and hearing the same noises that they did. It is a bit overwhelming and difficult to get your head around, Becky thinks to herself.

The view is incredible. It is maybe one of the best views she has seen since she has been in San Francisco. It is windier out here but the blue sky stretches as far as Becky’s eyes can see and the Golden Gate Bridge stands gallantly in position in the distance. It must have been torture to be locked away on this island with that as the scenery. The water crunches against the edges nearby and Becky is absolutely lost in her own thoughts.

It’s the noise of the camera that breaks her attention. She turns to find Charlotte aiming her phone in Becky’s direction and Becky shakes her head.

“Delete that.”

“Why? It’s a great photo.”

Becky’s eyes roll so hard that she thinks they may shatter. “Let me see it.”

It’s not a bad photo.

The sun catches Becky’s hair and her leather jacket and there’s just a hint of the profile of her face. The bridge and the blue sky is a perfect backdrop setting and Becky has to begrudgingly admit that it’s a pretty damn good photo.

“I told you it was good. Do you want me to send you it?”

“Nah. Okay, yes.”

“Hold on.”

Becky’s phone pings with a notification less than a minute later, and she sends it to Sasha and Bayley before she pockets her phone again. For some reason she thinks they will appreciate it, it’s a photo that screams ‘_look I’m actually out living my life right now’._

“Do you want one?” Becky offers.

“How about both of us?”

“Together?”

“Yeah, obviously,” Charlotte says.

“Okay, fine, but you better not tell anyone about it,” Becky grumbles as she moves to where Charlotte is standing.

“It’ll be our little secret, Becks.”  
  
“Just hurry up an’ take the picture.” 

Charlotte takes their picture as she smiles and Becky pulls a funny face, and it would be so easy to ask Becky to take another one but she doesn’t because this is Becky. And she’s not sure how she could have expected anything different.

Becky walks a few paces in front of her before she shoves her hands into her jeans pockets and stares out at the ocean. Charlotte has the feeling that Becky is at peace watching the waves and when she thinks about it she doesn’t blame her.

The waves come again, transient but always there, rising and falling. They scatter the sun, the colour of the water seemingly changing yet always familiar, always blue. 

How could you not love it?

“Did you know Al Capone learned to play the banjo in this prison?” Becky asks after a few seconds. “Wonder if he played it out here.”

“What?”

“He did, was even in a prison band called the Rock Islanders.”  
  
“You’re joking me, right?”  
  
Becky laughs, and it rolls outwards in turn with the waves. “I am not.” 

Of all the bits of information Charlotte has heard today she thinks that this piece will be the one that stays with her for some reason.

*****

“I don’t think you could ever get used to this smell,” Becky realises.

Charlotte shifts from where she is leaning on the railing as someone else slots in beside her on the other side to Becky. She scrunches her nose up and tries not to think about the aroma around them.

“I don’t know why you would even want to.”

There are about a hundred of them all lazing on the pier, most of them are asleep but there are a few who simply look as if they are sunbathing in the late afternoon sun. Another handful of them are wide awake and making sure everyone around the pier is aware of it.

Becky thinks the sea lions look like they are arguing over their favourite spot on the planks. The noisy disagreement between them is quite the sight.

“I like em’,” Becky says, “I’m gonna call that one Sully.” She points to one at the far end of the pier who is at the end of a row that is packed in like sardines.

“That one looks like it’s doing yoga,” Charlotte states, pointing to another one.

“He looks like a Sebastian. Sebastian’s do yoga for sure.”

Charlotte laughs. “How about that one over there?”

Becky mulls it over for a second. “Saul.”

“What about him then?”

“Solomon,” Becky replies instantly.

“He looks more like a Henry to me,” Charlotte tells her after a few moments, standing up and folding her arms over her chest, and she really is out here debating the name of a fucking sea lion on the pier with Becky. “Yeah, he is definitely a Henry.”

“Way to go, Charlotte,” Becky jokes with a complete grin that Charlotte finds herself mirroring, “just ruined the whole fuckin’ game. You can’t call a sea lion Henry!”

“Okay, fine,” Charlotte surrenders, holding her palms up towards Becky. “He’s a Solomon then.”

“Nah, it’s too late now,” Becky protests quickly, her voice low, “you’ve lumbered him with Henry. Fuckin’ Henry the sea lion.”

Becky looks genuinely offended at Charlotte’s offer of a name and Charlotte’s lips thin, struggling against the laugh that so desperately wants to break free from her mouth.

She eventually settles on a smile and a deep exhale as Becky’s attention falls back onto the colony of sea lions. “Do you want to have dinner later or have you had enough of me and the city for one day?”

“The city doesn’t usually bore me really.”

“Hey,” Charlotte says, shoving gently at Becky’s shoulder. “You love this city, I can tell.”

“Maybe. I need to find a spot one night, see it all lit up from higher ground.”

“You’ve never seen the city like that?”

“Nah. I haven’t really had time, work takes up most of my life these days as you know,” Becky says.

“I have an idea for after dinner if you want to?”

“Sure, I could eat.”

“Seafood, okay?” Charlotte asks.

“That’s fine by me.”

“I know a good place close by,” Charlotte says, tugging on the cuff of Becky’s jacket.

*****

The warmth of the day is ebbing away into nothing.

The sun falls further outside the car and the sky changes until the sun is completely gone and all that remains is a clouded smear of orange, like a bloodstain on the horizon.

Becky’s body moves with the movement of the car, a lazy and understated rocking motion as they drive up through the seemingly never ending winding road. The car makes easy work of it and Becky can feel the power of it in her lower back. Charlotte’s attention is fully concentrated on the road and Becky is happy to sink into the heated seat and watch out the window.

As she is pushed back further in her seat, the car continues to climb the steep hill and Becky feels a blanket of warmth come over her while she rests her head against the car window. It makes her eyes feel heavier and heavier, and before she knows it her eyes are closed and all that she can hear on the peripheral is Charlotte humming along to the music playing on the radio and the soft murmur of the car underneath her.

When she fades out with her humming, Charlotte notices the quiet of the car and glances out of the corner of her eye at Becky. She is asleep, or at least she looks like she is and Charlotte can’t take her eyes off her. She is so mesmerized by this new flash of transparency that Charlotte’s first thought is that something might be wrong.

But there is nothing wrong, Becky’s breathing is even and shallow and so Charlotte lets her be in peace.

Becky is pulled back into the present when she hears the car cut out. Her eyes pop open, and she turns to find Charlotte looking at her. Her heart pounds, and Becky hopes Charlotte is not going to blindside her with some ridiculous comment that will make her feel silly.

“You okay over there?”

Relief washes over her, but she pushes it away, forcing whatever feelings she has about Charlotte watching her doze to the side. She swallows a yawn and gives Charlotte a crooked, tired smile.

“It’s been a long day.”

That familiar feeling returns to Charlotte when Becky smiles at her like this. “Did you not sleep well last night?”

Becky shrugs and unclips the seatbelt, moving the muscles in her shoulders to spark some life back into them. “It’s fine, anyway, where are we?”

Becky glances out of the window and sees through the darkness that they have stopped on some sort of gravel patch that has been turned into a makeshift car park. It’s busy. Becky can see the rows of cars in front of her and as she looks further out the window she can see people lined up around a thick railing and then, beyond them, San Francisco in all its bright glory. 

“Twin Peaks,” Charlotte says, “you wanted to see the city lit up at night so here we are.”

Becky smiles and lets out a chuckle. “You didn’t have to go to this trouble for me.” 

“It’s not any trouble. Tyler and I…” Charlotte doesn’t even know what to say. “We don’t get to do this kind of thing anymore so it’s nice to get out-”

“Charlotte, I ain’t some stand in for your boyfriend-”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that, Becky,” Charlotte interrupts quickly, “I just meant it has been nice to get out at the weekend and do something fun without worrying about work and that kind of thing.”

“So you’ve had fun today?” Becky asks, and she flashes Charlotte a sarcastic smile.

“Yes. Have you?”

Becky’s eyes meet hers and then Becky shrugs again, but Charlotte knows it’s not in a negative way. “I guess so, yeah.”

“That’s as close as I’m going to get to you admitting you had fun, isn’t it?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Fine, l will take it. Let’s go.”

Charlotte steps out of the car and grabs her jacket from the back seat directly behind the driver’s side. She waits until Becky makes her way around to where she is standing before she locks the door and then directs Becky where to go.

From the parking lot they make their way past the transmission towers to the peaks where the trail has been clearly marked. They travel across to the south peak where there is a three hundred and sixty degree view of the city below them.

“What do you think then?” Charlotte asks.

Becky thinks it is extraordinary in all honesty.

The view of the city spreading below them is like the fresh page of a book in the summer sun, it burns with the kind of brightness that brings a smile to your face even when you let your eyes rest for a moment. It is the sort of view that kindles something beautiful inside yourself, and at the same time stirs a connection with everything around you too.

The city meshes with vibrant colours and although she can’t actually hear them, Becky can imagine what it sounds down there in amongst it all: the cars, the busses, the boats, the people, the music, everything all chucked into a giant blender to mix together and make one great place.

Charlotte had been right earlier, Becky does love this city.

Above her head is a total contrast, the night sky is a peculiar sort of blackness. The kind that only wants to hold the stars so that it can help them shine a little bit brighter. In the serenade of the dark sky, the stars are its main chorus; they are the lights that have decided to sing in continuous patterns above the world.

“It’s beautiful,” Becky eventually answers. “Better than I thought.” 

They walk on a little further and manage to snag a spot at the railings that is semi deserted. There are a few couples and people taking photos further along but they are out of earshot and it feels like it is just her and Charlotte and the city.

“Isn’t that your building close to the Oakland Bay Bridge?” Becky asks.

“It is,” Charlotte answers, “trust you to notice that.”

Becky tilts her head so that Charlotte has her attention and she wants to make some sort of joke but she is fairly certain that her voice will crack and completely blow her cover.

“I notice everything.” Becky doesn’t add _‘about you’_. 

Charlotte’s jaw ticks, her eyes narrowing as she stares intently at her. Becky can tell that she is trying to find the words to respond, but Charlotte closes her mouth and swallows, and they stand against the railing in silence for a few minutes.

The city has a special way about it. A beauty. But Becky knows that, like a lot of things in life, beauty can be deceiving and when Charlotte shivers beside her she knows Charlotte can feel the cold of night creeping in.

She has a flimsy jacket on that isn’t really going to protect her from any sort of cold weather so Becky finds herself shrugging her leather jacket off of her shoulders and handing it across towards Charlotte.

“Here, take it.”

“No, I can’t do that, Becky.”

“Course you can.” Charlotte stares at her for a moment, and then Becky says, “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Charlotte’s face splits into a smile. “Yeah, friends.”

“So take it.”

Charlotte knows that it isn’t going to fit her and it seems like Becky realises it too because she pulls the jacket back towards her and then lifts it so that it drapes loosely over Charlotte’s shoulders instead.

“You’re going to be cold.”

Becky’s wearing a short sleeve navy shirt with tiny polka dots on it and she stretches her hands out and away from her. Her forearms are streaked with veins that sit comfortably on her skin, and when she folds them across her chest and leans against the railing Charlotte can see the concentrated flex of the muscles underneath. Becky’s arms possess incredible power, of that Charlotte doesn’t really have any doubts.

“I grew up in Ireland, I’m basically immune to the cold now.”

“What was it like growing up there?”

“Cold,” Becky jokes, “nah, it was great, I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

“Have you been back there since you came here?” Charlotte queries.

“Haven’t had the time really,” Becky concedes, “but my parents are fine and that’s all that matters to me.”

“Do you miss them?”

Becky’s heart rattles a bit in her chest. It seems to grow and beat against her ribcage until she can hear it in her ears.

“Nah, not really. I keep in touch with them enough so that it doesn’t feel like I’m missin’ out on anythin’.”

It’s a lie, and Charlotte can tell a mile off but she lets Becky brush it off because she knows that if she attempts to push Becky or try to open her up then Becky will push right back.

“I do miss them,” Becky offers quietly after a few minutes. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

“I know, Becks.”

“Sometimes,” Becky starts, “I think you just need to accept that the life you thought you were going to have doesn’t exist anymore and never will. I never seen myself leavin’ Ireland but here I am.”

“How?” Charlotte asks, quietly. “How do you do that?”

Becky bites the inside of her cheek to stop the sting of fresh tears that are threatening the back of her eyes. Even after all this time it feels like tearing open an old wound with a blunt, rusty blade. Her voice is coarse when she speaks and she knows Charlotte notices it.

“You just do. Somethin’ else will come around. The person I was before back home… she is just a ghost, she doesn’t exist. I’m here now and I’m always ready to move forward cause I believe there has to be somethin’ good comin’ my way. Surely.”

Charlotte reaches out hesitantly and places her hand over Becky’s own, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Maybe you’re the something good going someone’s way.”

Becky’s lips curve in the hint of a smile. “Maybe. Or maybe that’s you, Charlie.”

“Charlie?”

“It only seems fair that I have a nickname for you too.”

“I’ve been called worse,” Charlotte admits, mirroring Becky’s own words about Charlotte’s shortened name for her.

“No shit.”

“You’re an ass.”

Charlotte watches as Becky takes a deep breath and then dark eyes shift down. Becky’s eyes dance over Charlotte’s lips briefly, and Charlotte finds herself pulling her bottom lip between her teeth and biting down. Her heart thunders in her chest and then it swells to her ears.

But then Becky looks away and back towards the city.

“So,” Becky says, stopping to take a breath. She lets it all out in one sigh, watching it float off into the air. She turns back towards Charlotte, swallowing as she does so. “You ready to go?”

Slowly, as she stands there, a sense of unease crawls its way through Charlotte’s system, cool in her veins, blooming in her stomach, her heart beating even faster, as if her body is somehow confirming what she already knows now.

There’s a live current that runs between them, Charlotte realises in that moment, like a match being held too close to a flame, on the verge of bursting into something bright and powerful and beautiful, and knowing both of their luck so far, probably fucking disastrous.

“Yeah,” Charlotte whispers, “I’m ready.”


	6. there’s nothing i hate more than what i can’t have

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! 
> 
> The gala is finally heeerrreeeeee. To say this chapter was a challenge to write is an understatement. 
> 
> We hope you all enjoy it! It's our favorite one so far :) 
> 
> Thanks again for all the support!

In the haze of the afternoon, the sun seems to be trapped in the narrow streets, even in the shadows the heat still lingers. Already too warm, Becky pulls her hoodie up and over head, ties it tightly around her waist, and then takes a step backwards from the stairs.

The building looks like a cut out from a magazine.

It is painted white and not the kind of place Becky is usually drawn to. Everything is geometric which Becky guesses you could say about most buildings these days still, with this building you can’t help but notice it.

The roof is flat to start with and the door to the entrance is as wide as it is tall. The rectangular windows take up the entire wall and the two floors are separated with a white wall beam that seems to break things up into even more rectangles. There is also outside lights that Becky guesses will be coloured blue for the evening.

It is unapologetically modern and it looks as if it has been sat there rather than constructed. The only organic matter in sight is the flowers that sit in tall vases at the front door.

The air tastes a bit like exhaust fumes, and the constant din of the traffic seems to blur all other sounds. Even the birds seem to stay away above them.

Becky walks the perimeter of the building with her hands in her pockets, trying to find any loopholes that would give someone who shouldn’t be there an entry to the building tonight. There aren’t too many, though the fact there are two floors poses a minor inconvenience. Once the first scan is done, she goes back and does it all again until she is happy that she hasn’t missed anything.

“Becky, I’m not tryin’ to be rude,” Finn says as he walks down the stairs towards her, “but you really don’t need to be here, we’ve got it covered.”

“I know you do but I wanted to check it out anyway,” Becky says, ignoring him.

“It’s a _nice_ place in there,” Finn states. He starts to say something else, then stops and fiddles with a button on his shirt. “As you’d obviously expect. You wanna see it?”

Becky follows Finn into the building where it’s clear that it has recently been refurbished. The lower floor is accented with art and other gallery décor that Becky doesn’t really know how to appreciate. The natural light that floods in through the windows is impressive and there’s a pretty outside area to her right. There’s also men to her left setting up displays and what looks like a photo area.

Finn leads her up two flights of stairs to where Becky imagines most of her night will be spent.

It is the kind of room that makes you feel small and plain without meaning to. The room has a spacious open feeling thanks to the Brazilian cherry hardwood floors that look incredible; the white brick walls that support the columns that rise to the ceiling; and floor to ceiling windows at the end of the room. Light pours in through the day and at night Becky imagines the city lights turn it into a wall of glittering glass. 

There’s a built in oak stage for entertainment with a dance floor laid out in front of it and there’s a classy looking bar near the windows that will probably stock some classy alcohol later. It’s a very Charlotte type of place, is Becky’s first gathering of thoughts about it.

“It is a nice place,” Becky comments, “very Flair-ish.”

“It is. You gonna tell me why you’re really here then?”

“I told you, I just wanted to check everything, plus not as if I’m doin’ anything is it?” Becky asks. “I gotta keep myself for this thing tonight.”

Finn peers at Becky, worry lines creasing his forehead as he walks over towards one of the tables. “It doesn’t seem like your kinda thing.”

“It isn’t my kinda thing.”

“So, you’re just goin’ cause you wanna on your night off?” Finn asks carefully, looking over his shoulder at her. “Just admit you guys are friends and get it over with.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Cause then you’ll be admittin’ that I was right. I told you this assignment wouldn’t be that bad. I was right, huh? Just make sure it doesn’t interfere with your job.”

“Fine,” Becky says with a heavy sigh. “You were right, it hasn’t been that bad an’ you know it won’t interfere with my job.”

Finn’s jaw starts working and his lips tighten. He mulls over Becky’s words for a few moments, and then his face lights up. “I love bein’ right when it comes to you.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“News flash,” Finn says with a grumble, “I’ve always been an idiot and usually you’re always with me when I’m bein’ an idiot.”

“Well then idiot number one,” Becky murmurs with a laugh, “you got everythin’ down for this tonight?”

“It’s all good. We’ll have people inside and outside,” Finn says, “basic surveillance. We’ll be watching everyone who comes in and out of the party, and what’s going on during it. You’re like an extra helper too.”

“Maybe you should pay me for it then.”

“Nah,” Finn says, backing away from the table to push against Becky’s shoulder with a laugh of his own, “you’re Charlotte’s special guest, remember?”

“Fuck you.”

*****

Charlotte is fresh out of the shower, with a towel wrapped around her midsection and hair when she picks up her phone. There are various emails and texts that can all wait until tomorrow, Monday at the latest if she is lucky.

There’s also a solitary message from Becky that arrived two minutes ago, and Charlotte frowns, instantly curious when all the message says is: _are you busy?_

They haven’t spoken about whatever passed between them at Twin Peaks and Charlotte is beginning to wonder if the whole thing was actually all in her head because Becky seems completely oblivious to it or she has a fine poker face, which wouldn’t really surprise Charlotte either given what she knows about Becky now.

They’ve sort of just fallen back into a routine that both of them are comfortable with. They have dinner a couple of times a week together after work – always somewhere new, and they each take a turn in picking where they go. They text, a lot, especially when they aren’t at work and more often than not there is a call in between those times too, usually talking about everything and nothing.

Charlotte doesn’t bother replying back to the message; instead she just hits the little phone icon with her thumb and Becky answers almost instantly like she has been expecting Charlotte to call her.

“I’m not busy.”

“I can see that,” Becky answers, “I just wanted to check in an’ make sure everythin’ was all good for tonight?”

“As good as it can be I guess, why?”

Becky sighs, and then she clears her throat to explain. “I just want tonight to go good for you, an’ the club obviously. I checked out the place earlier for you an’ it looks good. Tonight is gonna go great.”

“You checked it out for me?”

Becky winces at the slip up, but there is nothing she can do now except front it out. “I didn’t have anythin’ to do and Finn asked me to tag along with him.”

“Well, I’m glad you approve of it. You haven’t been coaxed into working, have you?”

“Nope. I’ll be there with Sasha an’ Bayley like I said.”

“What are you planning on wearing?”

“It’s all black,” Becky mutters quietly, “the suit, the shirt and the tie.”

Charlotte hears the reluctance in Becky’s voice and can’t help but laugh at it. “You sound like someone who is heading to death row rather than a Gala.”

“Same thing to me,” Becky answers, “what about you?”

“A dress,” Charlotte says, allowing some quiet to filter down the line, “not black though.”

Hearing the gentle joke in Charlotte’s voice, Becky lets out an audible huff and shakes her head even though Charlotte can’t see her.

“I figured. Alright, well I’ll see you tonight?”

“Yeah,” Charlotte answers, “you’ll see me tonight.”

Charlotte clicks off the call after Becky says bye and chucks her phone onto the bed. She gets dried quickly, throwing a jumper and sweatpants on before heading back through towards the living room with her hair still damp. 

She is nervous about tonight because it has to go well. Her or the Royals cannot afford any more bad press regardless of whether it is true or not and for once, things just have to go smoothly. She can smell food wafting through from the kitchen and the smell of it makes her stomach roll.

“Who were you talking to?” Tyler asks as he pulls the balcony doors open, lowering himself onto one of the seats with a bowl of pasta in his hands.

“Becky.”

Tyler nods his head towards Charlotte who is now leaning against the door frame looking outwards at the city, under the late afternoon sunshine every colour is kissed into shining brilliance.

“You have to relax, Charlotte, tonight will go well. We will make sure of it.”

“I… have a hard time believing luck will suddenly be on our side for some reason.” The words are baffling in her mouth because while she probably should mean her and Tyler she doesn’t, she means her and the Royals. Tyler quirks an eyebrow upwards, encouraging her to continue. “I’m just being pessimistic I guess.”

“You are, and you need to snap out of it because if you think people won’t notice then you are sorely mistaken.”

“I know…” Charlotte trails off and takes a deep breath, because there are a lot of thoughts swirling around in her head these days and she has no idea when she is going to have the time to unpack them but she knows that she definitely will. “It’ll go great, like you said. Becky just said so too.”

“Well there you go then.” He reaches out with his left hand to wrap his fingers around Charlotte’s wrist, squeezing with enough pressure that she feels it. “Tonight will be a success for us.”

*****

“Being this pretty isn’t easy, Becky,” Sasha jokes from where she is standing in front of the mirror. She pulls at the orange strap of her dress and throws Becky a killer smile over her shoulder.

Sasha is stunning in an obvious kind of way and Becky knows that everybody - including Sasha herself - knows it.

"An’ yet,” Becky bites back playfully, “you seem to suffer it without many complaints.”

Becky makes her own way over towards the mirror and leans forward to apply a light layer of lipstick and although Becky knows she looks good, her tie is still slightly crooked and it is beginning to bug her happiness.

“Can you sort this for me?” Becky asks, and moves her hand over the general area of her throat. “I hate these fuckin’ things.”

Sasha snorts from beside her and Becky glances up in the mirror so she is looking at Sasha and Sasha doesn’t back down from her glare, it is almost like Sasha is expecting it.

“Don’t you wear those things for a living?”

“Yeah,” Becky answers, “but it doesn’t matter if my tie is crooked then cause nobody cares and I usually have it off before lunch time.”

“You need to find a woman to help you with these things.”

“Don’t start this speech again.”

“I’m just saying,” Sasha shrugs, then she puts her hands on Becky’s shoulder and gently turns her so that they are facing each other. She raises the collar of Becky’s black shirt and arranges the black silky fabric beneath it until it is pressed into a neat knot at the base of Becky’s throat. Sasha folds down the collar and then steps away. “There. Perfect.”

“Leave her alone,” Bayley interrupts from their right. She is wearing a light blue strapless dress that makes her look gorgeous and Becky thinks the three of them make a pretty imposing team.

“Thanks, Bayley,” Becky murmurs. “This one doesn’t know when to shut up.”

“Look, I was just saying it would be good for her to broaden her horizons,” Sasha argues, “she should be out having fun, it’s not as if the city has a shortage of women.”

“I’m standin’ right here,” Becky says. “Right here, next to you.”

“And also, just because Charlotte got us these tickets and you’re friends with her now doesn’t mean I trust her yet, okay?”

“I know, Sasha,” Becky nods and stares at herself in the mirror again. She wonders how the hell she can never get a tie right like other people can. It seems so easy.

“I will still kick her ass if I need to. Rich bitch or -”

“What Sasha means to say is we’re really grateful for the tickets,” Bayley says with a giant eye roll. “And we’re glad that you and Charlotte are getting along much better.”

“That too,” Sasha adds.

“An’ I’m sure the free bar won’t be a burden for you, Sash?” Becky teases with a smile.

“No. Okay, fine. I’m glad of that too,” Sasha concedes. “You seem nervous, Becky.”

Becky lifts her chin and lets the insinuation hang in the air. “Why would I be nervous?”

“I have no idea,” Sasha answers, and she gives Becky a skeptical look, “why don’t you tell me.”

Becky doesn’t miss a beat this time. “I’m not nervous, I have no reason to be.”

“We ready to go?” Bayley asks.

“Just need to get my jacket and watch,” Becky answers, glad of the change in direction of the topic, “you two go downstairs an’ I’ll be down in two minutes.”

It’s when she is slipping the black jacket over her shoulders that she first notices the feeling. It’s anticipation and Becky doesn’t really know what she is supposed to be anticipating but it’s there anyway.

She recognises it for what it is as it flows around her body and she feels herself bouncing slightly on her feet as she heads downstairs.

It takes them over half an hour to get there and by the time the cab is dropping them off, Becky can see partygoers up ahead, people in tuxedos and dresses, walking into the reception area to give their names.

“You look handsome,” Sasha says as she takes Becky’s arm, “who knew a little Irish bodyguard could scrub up so well?”

“Why do all your compliments to me have a backhanded comment to go with them?” Becky asks.

“I can’t even argue with her this time,” Bayley mutters as she takes Becky’s other arm.

“For what it’s worth,” Becky sighs, “you both look pretty damn good too. Can we go and get this over with now?”

“Lead the way,” Sasha says.

*****

Charlotte spots her almost immediately, and she is unusually late.

Becky is standing in between two beautiful women at either side of her, hands in her trouser pockets and she looks totally invested in what Sasha is telling her. Becky hadn’t been lying about Sasha’s hair either – it is shockingly bright and easily recognisable, much like Becky’s own.

Becky’s hair has been pulled up and it’s the first time Charlotte has ever seen it this way. It is away from her face allowing Becky’s natural features to become more prominent and noticeable: her eyes, her high cheekbones and the way her jaw lifts with a proud and happy smile at whatever Sasha has just said to her.

Becky’s suit doesn’t resemble anything that she wears during the working week. This suit isn’t designed to hide Becky’s body, no, this suit has been designed to show it off. Everything is black like Becky had told her earlier and it looks effortlessly classy. Becky gives off the air of authority and power, and something anchors deep in Charlotte’s stomach.

Charlotte feels a bit like Icarus in that she knows that she is probably watching Becky for longer than necessary and therefore flying too close to the sun, and if she isn’t careful the wax is going to start melting away from her wings and leave her crashing down towards the sea.

Becky has never liked crowds, or rather, she never likes being in them. She depends on her ability to absorb detail, to notice what is out of place, and too many people softens the lens; everyone blends together and makes it more difficult. The room is crawling with guests. Everyone looks happy to be there and most of them look glowing with their own importance.

“You’re not at work,” Sasha whispers from beside her.

“I know that.”

“Then tell it to your face.”

Something gives way beneath Becky’s serious expression and she tilts her head around to face Sasha, hurrying her face into an easy smile because damn Sasha to hell. She takes a couple of moments to breathe and then she finds herself looking up for some reason, like there’s something unconsciously trying to catch her attention.

She is just casually looking from one guest to the next when she spots Charlotte, it’s hard to miss her really.

Charlotte’s hair is curled at the ends and has been pulled over her right shoulder. Becky allows her eyes to journey up and over strong legs, noting that the navy dress fits Charlotte exactly how it is supposed to. There’s a plunging neckline that shows off her collarbones and an expanse of perfect skin where a gleaming necklace sits and Becky knows that Charlotte’s dress has been specifically picked to be noticed.

Becky’s stomach dips uncomfortably and she finds herself swallowing. She feels a dull bloom of warmth in her chest as she catches Charlotte’s eye. She tilts her shoulders back and pulls her hands out of her pockets, and she shifts forward to give her legs some weight.

Charlotte gives her a smile and even from Becky’s standing point she can tell that it is genuine. Then Charlotte is tipping her head to the side and Becky knows it for what it is: an invitation.

“Uh, do you guys wanna - ”

“We want to meet her,” Sasha answers before Becky can even get the question out. “I meant what I said earlier though.”

“Can you shut up,” Becky says through gritted teeth as they stroll over the room, weaving in and out of the crowd. “Charlotte,” she says loudly, and Becky sees a trace of a smile cross Charlotte’s lips.

“Becky, I’m glad you could make it.”

Before Becky can introduce anyone else, Sasha is already pushing her hand out in Charlotte’s direction, and Charlotte takes it, shaking firmly. “Sasha. Thanks for the invite.”

“It’s lovely to meet you and you must be Bayley?” Charlotte says with a glance in Bayley’s direction. “Can I offer you guys a drink?”

“I thought the drinks here were free?” Sasha asks.

Becky cringes.

“They are, you can just help yourself if you would prefer.”

“Good to know,” Sasha says.

“It’s great to be here,” Bayley comments, “we’re really thankful for the invitation and -”

“Nonsense,” Charlotte disagrees gently, “Becky has been great to me over the last few months so it is only fair that I do something for her in return.” Charlotte offers Bayley another smile before they start conversing about other things which ultimately, and perhaps more surprisingly, leaves Becky and Sasha on the sidelines.

“You must be a fucking hot shot at work,” Sasha says quietly after a few moments. She grabs two drinks off of a server’s passing tray before turning around to give the room another appraisal. “I need me some clients like Charlotte.”

“Two?” Becky asks, “really?”

“One’s for Bayley, duh. Bayley who has abandoned me to talk to your boss.”

“Finn is my boss.”

“Semantics.”

“She’s right,” Charlotte says, bringing the conversation back to the four of them. “Finn is her boss, I just hire her for the muscle.”

Becky coughs and she feels Sasha’s gaze on her, hot on her neck.

“So you guys are pretty much friends now, right?” Sasha asks.

Becky sees what Sasha is doing, she is letting Charlotte put the pieces together herself that Sasha knows they are more than just work colleagues these days.

Charlotte pinches at the hips of her dress, there’s a smattering of colour on her cheeks and Becky can see the pulse in her throat bobbing. Charlotte is uncomfortable for some reason even if she is doing a nice job of not showing it.

“Hey, Sash, you want to go to the bar?” Bayley says, her eyes widening comically, as if she senses Sasha is overstepping an imaginary mark.

“I already got you a drink?”

Bayley takes the drink from Sasha’s hand, draining it in one go and then she says, “You can get me another. It was so great to meet you, Charlotte. Let’s catch up later?”

“Of course, Bayley. Any time.”

“Come on, you,” Bayley says, and grabs Sasha’s arm, pulling her towards the bar. Sasha follows as she glances back over her shoulder at Becky.

“Sasha doesn’t always make a great first impression,” Becky explains. “Once you get past that though then you’re laughin’.”

“She was just trying to get to grips with me,” Charlotte accepts, “and I didn’t know if you had told her we were friends or…”

“Or?”

Charlotte seems to consider the question, taking several moments. She is gathering herself, rebuilding the wall. Becky watches it happen. Charlotte’s bearing changes, she sets her shoulders back and then her expression slips back into a mask of pretty neutrality.

“Or,” Charlotte repeats, “if I was still just someone you work with.”

“She knows we’re friendly.”

“Good. You look different, Becks. In a good way, of course.”

“An’ you look…” Becky says, her voice trailing away as she looks Charlotte over again, and Charlotte braces herself for some sarcastic comment. But what Becky says surprises her. “Lovely, Charlie.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I have to go and do club duties now, I’m sorry.”

Becky shakes her head in understanding, then she forces a smile onto her lips. “Don’t be, it’s fine, I got a free bar to explore anyway. Tonight will go great, Charlotte.”

“I hope so.”

“Of course it will.”

“We’ll talk later?”

“Come an’ find me whenever you need me,” Becky says quickly, surprising them both.

Charlotte presses her hand onto Becky’s forearm before she leaves and Becky can do nothing except watch Charlotte go and join a small collection of people who look like they are there on club business too.

A few minutes later, Becky catches Charlotte subtly rolling her eyes in Becky’s direction and she tries to hide her smile but when Becky grins back at her, it just isn’t happening. 

*****

Charlotte looks fed up.

Becky is certain that if Charlotte had a watch on her wrist instead of an expensive, sparkling diamond bracelet then she would be checking it for the time every few minutes instead of letting her eyes wander across the room as if she is trying to find something or someone, probably Tyler, Becky thinks.

Charlotte gives up pretty quickly each time though, her eyes and attention dropping back onto whoever she is speaking to. She doesn’t look thrilled to be there but she smiles when she needs to and Becky can see her answering everything politely and kindly before excusing herself and moving onto the next small group of people who need her attention.

Becky has been subconsciously patrolling the Gala for the better part of an hour. She hopes it looks like she is enjoying herself. Sasha and Bayley have bailed on her for some auction event downstairs and every once in a while Becky sets a beer on a tray and picks up another one, so that to anyone who might be watching it will look like she is drinking more than she actually is.

Becky looks back up from the drinks tray to where Charlotte had been a second ago, a little disappointed not to see her still there. Becky might not be officially working but old habits die hard and she almost can’t help it. It’s like an automatic thing with Charlotte these days.

Becky stands and slips her jacket off her shoulders, rolling her shirt sleeves up in the process before a man in the corner shifts slightly and Charlotte catches Becky’s eye from across the room again, and Becky is forced to focus her attention back onto her own drink, her neck growing hot at being caught staring because Charlotte will know exactly what she is doing.

“You need to relax a little,” a voice from over Becky’s shoulder says a few moments later as Becky continues to stare down at her beer bottle, then there’s fingers being dragged down her shirt sleeve and then onto her bare arm towards her watch before Charlotte sits next to her. “Finn isn’t paying you to work tonight and neither am I.”

“I am relaxed.”

“Could have fooled me,” Charlotte answers with a smile.

“Fine,” Becky concedes, her eyes narrowing as she looks at Charlotte, “you caught me, it’s a hard habit to break, okay? I’m just used to being on guard around you.”

“Is that something you’re taught when you start this line of work? Always be on your toes.”

“Yeah,” Becky replies, “it’s the first lesson you’re taught.”

“See,” Charlotte laughs, “now you’re just being a smartass.”

“How is it goin’ though, for real?”

“It is going well,” Charlotte says, sighing as though the truth of it is troubling for some reason. “Really well. Our investors seem happier, our fans seem happier and even our players seem happier -”

“But?”

“There is no but.”

“There’s a but, Charlotte.”

Charlotte looks up, a frown on her face, only to find that Becky is staring at her again. Charlotte clears her throat, which seems to tear Becky’s eyes away from her face and Charlotte finds herself smiling.

“I’m just waiting on something going wrong.”

Becky’s eyes flicker upwards towards her again, complex and surprised, as if Charlotte is a problem that she can’t quite solve yet. Then Becky smiles too and Charlotte nearly sighs in relief.

“It won’t go wrong,” Becky reassures her, “I think you’ve had your fill of bad luck this year. The well has all but run dry these days.”

Charlotte doesn’t know why she finds herself laughing, but she does. Her shoulders shake and her hand comes up to cover her mouth so that she can attempt to hold some of it in.

“What?” Becky asks.

“You,” Charlotte answers, “sometimes you say the strangest of things, things that sound really philosophical and smart.”

“An’ that’s funny?”

“When I think about it, it is,” Charlotte answers and Becky pauses, waiting for Charlotte to finish her explanation. “The first few weeks of knowing you we practically communicated through your death glares and grunts. Now you’re giving me life lessons.”

“Listen, I can be smart, alright?”

“I can see that now.”

“An’ I want you to know – no matter where I am, whatever I’m doing – if you need me for anything tonight, I will be here. I hope that’s smart enough for you.”

“Oh it is. And thank you.”

“I didn’t do anythin’.”

“You did, you have been there for me,” Charlotte replies quickly, “I haven’t had a whole lot of that recently.”

It’s funny, Charlotte thinks, how sometimes you can talk to a multitude of people and it does nothing for you except make you roll your eyes because it really is just one of those days or nights and yet there can be one person, one person who can make all the difference in the world and you don’t want to stop talking to them no matter how bad you think it might be going.

“Tonight will go great, it already is. Just gotta look around to see it,” Becky says with a nod, casting her eyes around the room at everyone. 

“You’re right.”

“Again?”

“Yes.”

“I’m on a roll,” Becky jokes.  
  
“Aren’t you always?” 

A short while later Charlotte stands and touches Becky’s shoulder before she leaves to mingle with all the guests again, and Becky can only watch her go before she gets lost somewhere inside her own head.

*****

“Becky,” a familiar voice interrupts, “I assume you are enjoying your evening?”

Becky turns her head to where Tyler is approaching her with two bottles of beer. He’s dressed perfectly: pale blue shirt, a navy suit that matches the colour of Charlotte’s dress and leather shoes polished to a shine. He smiles and Becky notices that he has had his teeth done for tonight, they have an unnatural sheen to them that you can only get professionally. He perches himself on the edge of the stool next to Becky and hands her a beer.

A part of Becky wants to be bold; to say that this really isn’t the kind of evening she enjoys or wants to be involved in, to say that she would rather be spending her Saturday evening doing other things.

Instead, she says, “It’s goin’ great.”

Tyler leans in towards her, lowering his voice as if he is imparting some ancient secret. “Charlotte tells me you’re a fan of Alexa... one of the many things she tells me about you these days actually.”

Becky isn’t sure what he is getting at with his comment but she chooses to ignore it anyway because she feels something close to embarrassment creeping up on her which is beyond stupid.

“I like the Royals, everyone is a fan of Alexa,” Becky says, and while she is making an effort to be polite she also means it. She doesn’t know any Royals fan who doesn’t like Alexa Bliss.

Tyler shifts slightly, a tiny swivel of his head and Becky can tell that Tyler is looking for someone. He isn’t obvious about it but she notices his eyes scanning the room. He must settle on someone though because he turns to her and tells her to stay put for a second before he leaves and heads through the crowd, over towards a table at the far side of the room.

Becky’s curiosity gets the better of her and she finds herself leaning upwards and out of her seat, almost on her tiptoes to see if she can see what Tyler is doing and who he is talking to but with people on the dance floor and the low lighting she struggles.

Sasha appears then, with two more drinks in flute type glasses, and she sets them next to the two beers on their table before Bayley joins them. Sasha looks from Bayley to Becky, expecting some sort of explanation as to why Becky is in the position she is in but she doesn’t get one, Becky just takes a gulp of her beer instead.

“Becky, what are you… wait is that Alexa Bliss? Is she coming over here? She is!”

Becky looks over her shoulder to where Sasha is looking at and it is Alexa Bliss of all people who is heading towards their table. She is followed by Tyler who is a step behind her and he has his hand on the small of Alexa’s back as if he is guiding her.

“Becky,” Tyler states when he finally returns, “I have someone I’d like you and your friends to meet.”

“Alexa Bliss,” Becky says, the name almost carried away with the music.

“Alexa,” Tyler says, “this is Becky Lynch, she is a friend of Charlotte’s and by all means a big fan of _yours_.”

When Becky looks up at him, something has changed in Tyler’s face – something subtle – and a hint of unease takes flight in Becky’s chest. His eyes flicker for a moment, catching a strobe of light from above them, and it is like they are impenetrable, like staring into an abandoned mine shaft.

Other people may buy into Tyler’s bullshit persona but Becky definitely does not. What the fuck does Charlotte even see in this guy anyway?

“I’ll leave you ladies to it.” Tyler breaks into a smile, as if everything is a big mystery, and Becky doesn’t really like what she is seeing so she looks away and focuses on Alexa instead.

“Big fan,” Becky admits as she holds out a hand for Alexa to shake. “I can’t lie.”

“She even has your shirt,” Sasha says, and Becky gives her a sidelong glare, her cheeks blooming colour again. “Got it on release day too.”

Noting this, Alexa laughs and then she steps a little into Becky’s personal space, not enough that Becky has any sort of issue with it but enough that Becky notices it. “I could always sign your shirt if you’d like?”

Becky pulls a little at the knot in her tie so it loosens around her throat and then she tilts her head backwards a little. “Yeah, that would be great. Listen, thanks for comin’ over to chat to us, I dunno what Tyler -”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Alexa says, and she reaches across Becky to squeeze Bayley’s arm. Bayley who hasn’t stopped grinning since she’d seen Alexa coming towards them. “I always enjoy meeting fans of the club.”

“And you,” Bayley buts in quickly, “fans of you too.”

The high pitch in Bayley’s voice makes Becky realise how excited Bayley actually is about this whole encounter and when Becky turns to look at her friend, she catches Sasha’s eye from the corner of her own and it makes her she realise how close her and Alexa are standing together.

Becky instinctively takes a little step backwards out of Alexa’s reach and she can see Sasha frowning at her.

“So, do you sign everyone’s shirt?” Bayley says slowly, a hopeful look in her eye and Becky can only roll her own. She is never going to any Gala again – not even for Charlotte.

“What is it with you and the blondes at this club?” Sasha murmurs from beside Becky.

Becky gives up in saying anything, choosing instead to poke gently at Sasha’s ribs before she excuses herself.

-

By some miracle the bathroom is quiet when Becky leaves the stall. She makes her way over to the sink where an assortment of expensive looking soaps in bottles are lined up behind the sink. Becky has a look at a couple of them before settling on the blood orange and ginger scented one.

She hears shuffling outside and then a woman comes in through the door, brushing past Becky and standing at the next sink up. The woman doesn’t say anything as she runs her hand through her hair and then she is digging through her purse for make up. 

“Sometimes you need a break from all rabble that outside,” the woman says, gesturing with her hand to the bathroom doorway.

A couple of seconds pass and a faint memory surfaces in Becky’s head and – as she tries to grasp at it – a feeling of recognition washes over her: she knows this woman some how. Becky glances up and into the mirror so she is looking back at the woman beside her.

There’s a moment of hesitation from both of them, a pause above each sink – but then a smile breaks out on the woman’s face and she aims it at Becky.

“Do I know you?”

As soon as the woman asks the question, the memory becomes fully formed in Becky’s head. This is the British investor she had heard Tyler on the phone to a few months ago.

The woman isn’t what Becky was expecting.

“Nah, I don’t think so,” Becky says, “you got a name? Maybe it’ll bring somethin’ back to me.”

“Paige. Ring any bells?”

“Nah, that name doesn’t mean anythin’ to me.”

“Interesting.” An even bigger smile spreads across Paige’s face. “Looked like you knew me.”

“You’re an investor, right?” Becky asks, washing the soap off her hands and giving them a shake so the water splashes down onto the ceramic.

Paige blinks. She takes a moment, and then she crosses her arms. “How’d you know that?”

Becky shrugs. “Just a hunch. I’m good at readin’ people.”

A strong chin tilts upwards and Paige merely looks at Becky. “I’m one of the kinder investors, yes.”

“Oh, I’ll bet you are.”

Paige completely disregards the barb, instead asking, “What’s your role at the club?”

“Security.”

“You’re security?”

“That’s what I said,” Becky answers, “it’s great that Charlotte is gettin’ this club back on its feet again after everythin’. She’s doin’ a grand job.” 

“Don’t you think it’s more of a team effort on that front?”

Becky’s posture stiffens and she presses her lips together, and it’s all she can do to keep herself in check. “Nah, I think Charlotte has earned it herself.”

Becky’s statement floats in the thickness of the stagnant atmosphere around them and Paige knows exactly what Becky is getting at and what she is implying.

But then the bathroom door opens suddenly, bringing with it the end of the song that’s playing to the dancing crowd and a small group of women who look between Becky and Paige and hesitate, as if they are maybe interrupting on something.

“We’re not waitin’,” Becky says to them. “Go ahead.”

It’s awkward.

“Well, it was nice to meet you but I have people waiting on me out there.”

“I’m sure you do,” Becky replies.

Paige slides past her and then towards the door, she looks over her shoulder to look at Becky again and Becky can tell that Paige is resisting the urge to roll her eyes or make a comment. Instead she just leaves and the door bumps quietly against its hinges.

Becky takes a couple of moments before she looks up into the mirror and regards herself. 

When she gets back to their table a couple of minutes later she does a quick scan of the room to see where and who Paige is sitting with but she can’t seem to find her.

Becky can’t spot Tyler anywhere either.

*****

Not for the first time, Charlotte notices him buried away in the corner of the room on his own. She doesn’t know who he is but his eyes roam over her far too slowly for comfort and Charlotte finds herself turning away in the hope that he gets the message.

She takes a practiced sip of the wine she has and she ends up watching the packed dance floor instead.

There are bodies all around Becky, nudging and swaying into her back and sides, and although she doesn’t have the same swagger as Sasha or the same easy nature as Bayley, Becky can more than hold her own in the dance department.

Charlotte watches Becky easily twirl Sasha underneath her arm and Charlotte knows Becky is already three moves ahead of how they are dancing. She can see it in the way Becky concentrates on the way Sasha turns and the way Becky’s feet move fluidly.

It’s quite something to watch.

Becky smiles over at her every so often and Charlotte knows without any doubt that Becky has been keeping an eye on her throughout the night. Becky smiles at her again with that cocky shit eating grin that Charlotte always rolls her eyes at.

“Charlotte?”

The sound of her name shakes her from her thoughts. She snaps her attention onto Tyler who is staring at her, apparently waiting on an answer.

“Sorry, I was a million miles away. What?”

“I said I was going downstairs to make sure everything was running smoothly.”

“Can’t you stay?” Charlotte asks as the music changes to something much softer and slower, “we can dance? Everyone else is.”

“I don’t dance, you know that,” Tyler says sharply, “I’m going downstairs.”

“You can’t give me one dance tonight?” Charlotte snaps.

Much to Charlotte’s annoyance, Tyler has the gall to look surprised, and then he leans in close to her ear, his hand latching onto Charlotte’s elbow. “I’ll be back later, why does this have to be an issue? Tonight is about more than us dancing.”

When Tyler leaves without another word, Charlotte looks up and across to find Becky leaning against one of the large pillars that attach to the ceiling, almost slouching with her arms folded across her chest, she’s tapping out a pattern on her bare arm with her fingers and her tie is about two inches lower than it was at the start of the night.

They seem to find each other easily, despite the crowd and the dancing bodies, like an instinctive thing. When Charlotte looks across at Becky she finds Becky looking right back. Then Becky pushes off against the pillar, pulling through the crowd towards Charlotte, slipping past tables and people who are dancing at the very edge of the dance floor.

“Do you wanna dance?”

“To this song?” Charlotte manages.

Becky’s shoulders lift in her shirt. “Well, I know you wanna dance, so.”

“I’m a terrible dancer, Becky. Just so you know.”

“Come on, one dance ain’t gonna hurt you or me with any luck.”

Charlotte takes Becky’s hand, and they make their way to the dance floor. Charlotte finds herself laughing when Becky tries to twirl her underneath her arm but with the height difference between them it’s not the most eloquent of moves for either of them.

“Nah, like this,” Becky says. She pulls Charlotte closer towards her until they are pressed tighter together. Charlotte’s right hand falls onto Becky’s shoulder and then Charlotte unfurls her fingers on her other hand and lets Becky’s slip into her own until all Becky can feel is the heat of Charlotte’s palm pressed against hers. 

Becky leads them with purpose. With each step she takes, it becomes obvious to Charlotte that Becky has sussed out the best way for them to dance as a pair.

It’s movement done with such clarity and precision that Charlotte, sharing it, feels like a young bird learning to fly. She feels Becky gently push her outwards and then Becky moves so that Charlotte twirls freely underneath her arm this time before Becky pulls her back in.

“Are you having a good night?” Becky asks.

“It’s been good, I guess.”

“That’s… really encouragin’,” Becky murmurs in response.

“It’s better now,” Charlotte answers. “Where’d you learn to dance?”

Becky looks up at her through long lashes and she feels solid against Charlotte’s chest but there’s a quietness about Becky’s features now. It’s a surreal thing to watch someone who is usually so headstrong, so bullish, look shy at Charlotte’s question.

“I’ve always been good at it,” Becky hums, “it’s the quick feet I think.”

“But no lessons?”

Becky laughs and Charlotte feels it against her chest where Becky is pressed, and warm against her neck where Becky breathes the laugh out. “No lessons.”

“I’ve never danced with a woman before.”

Becky’s eyes dart upwards again, following Charlotte’s own. “Not even with your friends?”

“No. You’re the first.”

“It could be worse,” Becky jokes, trying to relieve some of the pressure that seems to be bearing down on them now. She finds her hand tracing soft circles on Charlotte’s lower back and there is an awareness between them. The knowledge that something has changed hangs low in the air and the more they dance the more it crackles.

“I think so too,” Charlotte says eventually, resting her head back against Becky’s own. Then Charlotte begins to sing along with the song and Becky hears the whisper of it wrap around her. “And I can’t explain, but it’s something about the way you look tonight…”

The feeling that bubbles in Becky’s chest is almost palpable; and while she’s aware that the room is filled with music and people talking and dancing, the only noise Becky can hear is the throbbing of her heart in her throat and in her ears.

And she feels a pang under her ribs. It’s gone and over before she can even dwell on it but it was there nonetheless, a phantom pain maybe.

The sound of Tyler’s voice rips Becky from her trance and she’s brought very much back into the present.

“Do you mind if I cut in and have the rest of this dance?” He asks.

The corner of Becky’s lips tilt up slightly, and she sucks in a breath, hoping no one will notice the heat on her cheeks. She drops her hand from Charlotte’s waist and then she steps out of the way when Charlotte drops her other hand. 

“Nah, course not.”

She watches with a sinking feeling in her stomach as Tyler’s eyes light up and flicker with unnerving confidence as he steps into her place and takes Charlotte into his own arms. Becky is being all but dismissed by him.

Becky keeps her eyes trained on the floor as she walks away, not bothering about who she bumps into. She doesn’t want to look back either, so she doesn’t. She just heads towards the area where she knows the bar is.

She doesn’t speak to anyone on the way.

And that’s when it dawns on Becky. The oxygen in her chest swirls into a vacuum created by a single moment of clarity.

She’s attracted to Charlotte.

There’s no denying it on her part.

There’s no if’s or but’s or maybe’s about it.

She’s also royally fucked.

-

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I shouldn’t have done that?” Tyler echoes with a laugh, as though Charlotte has just said something ridiculous. “You wanted me to dance with you.”

“You practically barged in and told my friend to leave.”

“I’m your fiancée,” Tyler says with a deep furrow in his brow, seemingly sincerely confused and a little annoyed at Charlotte’s words. “Becky will understand.”

“Oh come on,” Charlotte retorts, “as if you would like someone doing that to you.”

“Becky has made quite the impression on you, hasn’t she?”

“Something like that,” Charlotte replies, trying to take a decent breath. “She’s become a good friend.”

“In that case I’ll apologise to her the next time I see her then.”

Charlotte spots the man from earlier again. He’s leaning against one of the pillars much like Becky was earlier, a glass of scotch in his hand and his eyes trained on Charlotte. She looks away and focuses on Tyler instead, the heady smell of his aftershave drifts across to her.

“Who is that?” Charlotte asks, allowing her eyes to move over to where the guy is still leaning against the concrete.

“I have no idea,” Tyler returns tightly, “should I know him?”

“He’s been staring at me all night.”

“You’re a beautiful woman, Charlotte. People are bound to stare at you.”

He raises his eyebrows suggestively as he speaks the last few words and Charlotte feels her frustration rise to the surface at Tyler’s response.

-

Becky manages to shuffle away from the crowded dance floor without much fuss and by some small mercy there is an empty space at the end of the bar that is calling her name. Through the windows, the city lights sweep in - like Becky thought they would - creating patterns onto the wood. The room smells like expensive cologne and perfume and alcohol, and it’s not totally unbearable.

Becky sits on the stool and rests her head against the wall next to the bar, and she watches as Sasha and Bayley dance together to some cheesy 80’s love song that’s now playing. They seem perfectly content and in sync with each other. Becky figures if you can find someone like that, someone who you can trust to hold you with your eyes closed in a room full of people then you’re lucky - even if it only lasts for a song.

The image of them swaying gently to the music with each other is how Becky pictures love to be.

“What can I get you?” the woman behind the bar asks Becky, her back still half turned and blonde hair still covering part of her face.

The moment she turns around her smile widens, and she tilts her head just slightly as though she is examining Becky. Her gaze slowly rakes over Becky’s face and shoulders before settling on her empty hands.

“I’ve had enough of beer,” Becky says, nodding to the copious amount of bottles, “so what would you recommend?”

“What are you in the mood for?”

“Somethin’ strong.”

The woman – Mandy – if the name on her shirt is anything to go by, pinches her lips together, moving them from side to side as if she is really thinking about it. Then she taps her fingertips on the bar a few times.

“You’re a whisky drinker.”

“How’d you know that?”

“It’s a gift.”

“A gift?” Becky repeats, “right.”

“Sit tight and I’ll get you something…” The woman lingers, clearly hoping for a name.

“Becky, an’ you?”

“Mandy,” the woman says, pointing at where it is embroidered on the left hand side of her shirt. Becky pretends she hasn’t noticed it.

“Ah, yeah. I see it now.”

Mandy turns her back towards Becky for a few moments as she fixes Becky a drink and Becky finds herself leaning over the bar slightly when Mandy peels an orange slice.

Mandy finishes mixing her drink and places it in front of Becky.

“Hold on.” Mandy holds up her index finger so Becky doesn’t take a drink of it yet, grabbing a cocktail stick and a stabbing a cherry on to the top of it before placing it gently in the glass. “Okay, you can try it now.”

Becky arches an eyebrow as she peers down at the drink. Whisky with fruit doesn’t really fill her with any sort of confidence but she takes a hesitant sip of it and then finds herself going in for another.

“Strong enough for you?” Mandy asks when Becky grimaces.

“I hate to say it’s good but it’s good,” Becky says, then brings it back to her lips. “What’s it called?”

Mandy smirks at her then. “The Old Fashioned.”

Becky covers her mouth with the back of her hand before she swallows the gulp of the drink down. “Are you sayin’ I’m old fashioned?”

“You told me to get you something strong so I did,” Mandy blinks at her a few times, then adds, “think of it this way, it’s classy and impressive, and it doesn’t really go out of style.”

Becky winks and then holds Mandy’s gaze as she finishes her drink, not even flinching at the extra bitterness that the citrus fruit brings to the alcohol and Becky can tell Mandy is impressed with this little show of hers.

“Don’t forget the cherry,” Mandy tells her, nodding towards the cocktail stick.

Becky sets the glass on the bar, and then reaches for the cherry. “I wouldn’t dare.”

Once she slides it off and swallows it, Becky finds herself laughing at this whole stupid encounter and she sees Mandy doing the same.

“Thanks for the drink, Mandy.”

“Pleasure is all mine.” It’s Mandy’s turn to shoot Becky a wink this time. “So what brings you to this thing?” Mandy asks, when Becky orders another round – no frills this time, just whisky straight from the bottle. Becky has a reputation to keep in tact and that certainly isn’t helped by flirting with a bartender over silly cocktail drinks.

“I invited her,” Charlotte answers, and Becky hadn’t even seen her approaching. “She’s here as a friend of mine and the club.”

Becky turns, moving the stool from beside her outwards so that Charlotte can sit if she wants to. Something simmers between them, and Becky knows Charlotte can sense it by the way her eyes study Becky. Charlotte’s eyes shimmer like storm clouds right before the lightning hits and Becky has to look away.

She finishes her drink in one mouthful.

“What she says,” Becky states with a smile.

“Neat, you want another?” Mandy asks, nodding towards Becky’s empty glass.

“Nah, I shouldn’t.” She sets her glass on the bar, and Mandy immediately reaches for it before Becky’s fingers can release. Becky can feel Mandy’s skin against her own and her eyes focus on where they are touching. When Becky pulls her hand away she almost sees the immediate loss on Mandy’s face.

“I’ll take a drink.” Charlotte’s voice is heavy, low and soft but powerful enough that it breaks Becky out of whatever this is between her and Mandy. “Wine though.”

“Red or white?” Mandy asks, and then she looks right at Becky and says, “although I think the red is proving pretty popular in here tonight.”  
  
The human nervous system reacts in the same animalistic way to a threat as it does to any kind of primal experience – physical or mental – the adrenaline kicks in flooding your body, heightening your senses and putting them and therefore you on high alert.

Charlotte feels the irrational jealousy burning bright within her veins. From the starting spark in her brain, it travels like electricity to the soles of her feet and then surges around again. 

“White,” Charlotte states bluntly, and then adds, “please.”

The next fifteen minutes are spent in almost silence. Charlotte’s responses are short and to the point, so Becky gets the hint and just stops talking altogether for a while.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” Becky asks.

When Charlotte glances over, her eyes seem to stare right through Becky. “What could possibly be wrong, Becky?”

They are sitting in silence at a bar while everyone else gets caught up in the event: people are dancing and talking and laughing, and taking photographs, and getting autographs, and Charlotte has barely said a word to her since she sat down despite the fact they were slow dancing together less than an hour ago.

“You’re obviously upset about somethin’ so you may as well tell me.”

Becky can nearly see the wheels turning in Charlotte’s head as she contemplates what to say. Charlotte is almost transparent these days around her and Becky wonders if Charlotte has forgotten that she is pretty damn good at reading her.

Eventually, Charlotte speaks. “I’m not upset. I have no right to be… Tyler, I mean. He’s just being… him I guess. I don’t know.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah,” Charlotte says, lifting her glass up in a toasting motion. “Cheers.”

With the conversation obviously over, Becky refuses to push it any further. Charlotte is clearly under enough stress tonight and the last thing Becky thinks she needs is a heart to heart at a bar, so Becky drops it.

“I better get back to telling everyone that everything is going great at the Royals these days,” Charlotte murmurs, throwing her thumb over her shoulder towards the table where Tyler is now sat with a couple of older men in suits. “Have fun with your bartender.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

There’s something strange about the way Charlotte looks at her then, something strangely intimate as Becky refuses to look away this time. It’s like Charlotte is trying to tell Becky something that she doesn’t know how to vocalise yet.

Then Charlotte laughs and then shakes her head. “Nothing, Becky.”

*****

“What was all that about earlier?” Nattie asks when Charlotte sits back down.

Charlotte frowns. “Honestly? Tyler was being a dick. I told him about some guy -”

“I meant with you and Becky at the bar.”

“It wasn’t anything.”

“The way you two look at each other it’s…” Nattie stops as her mind completes the sentence. Wrong. Dangerous. More than friendly. “Intense,” Nattie finishes.

“I’ve always told you Becky was intense,” Charlotte says, “that’s just how Becky is in general.”

Nattie tucks her lip into her mouth. “So she will look at me like that if I go and talk to her?”

Charlotte opens her mouth to say something in reply but nothing comes out, because it’s obvious what Nattie is getting at but it’s not as simple for Charlotte to admit to it.

Charlotte clasps her hands on the table. What must Nattie think of her right now?

“I know what you’re getting at, Nattie, but it isn’t like that.” Charlotte stops and leans her head back slightly, letting out a humourless laugh. “It can’t be like that.”

Blinking, Charlotte swallows and tries to pull herself together. She unclasps her fingers and spreads them out to look at the ring on her finger. And while it is beautiful the diamond feels heavy these days.

“You care about Becky,” Nattie says gently. “I know you do.”

Caring too much can be dangerous and Charlotte can see how that could happen. But the alternative isn’t really much better. It’s a risk you either want to take because the person is worth it, but if you don’t want to risk it then get the fuck out of there.

“I need some fresh air, I’ll be back later.”

-

The area outside grows from the walls of the building like generous arms from a host. A sliver of silver hangs in the sky and it looks a bit like a dagger to Charlotte; pretty but deadly, as if it is trying to split the sky apart for some reason.

Stars are scattered across the dark canvas above; various sizes and shapes of them, all twisting and churning amongst themselves in an enormous war that is much too big for any human to understand. The flickering of the stars are charming; glittering and twinkling away, yet they always come back like thieves hiding away in the shadows.

The air is like frozen lace on her skin, delicate and cold, like winter waves on shallow sand. It’s a jarring contrast from the warmth of the party that is still going on behind her. She is hidden away from any prying eyes by a section of wall that juts outwards. 

San Francisco, Charlotte realises, is the type of place where everyone is from somewhere else, nobody really drops their anchor. It’s a fleeting kind of place. People drawn in by their dreams. People running from their nightmares. People ready to back up and leave if they need to. In a figurative or literal way – anyway necessary really.

Charlotte hears the glass door handle being pushed down and then it clicks closed. She doesn’t need to turn around to see who it is because she already knows but she glances over her shoulder anyway and it’s still sobering to see Becky standing there.

With a tender, almost apologetic shrug, Becky closes the distance between them to where Charlotte is standing and then she leans against the barrier of the balcony.

Becky watches the way Charlotte pulls at her blonde hair, reaching for the strands that have managed to escape, smiling with the city lights shining in her eyes.

Charlotte is simply beautiful.

“It’s pretty cold out here tonight,” Becky says, stating the obvious.

“I know.”

“Are you alright?”

“No.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

Charlotte smiles but it’s sad and it seems difficult to form. Her mouth softens – an attempt to appear impassive – and then her eyes instantly betray her as she looks back at Becky. She starts to blink a little faster in an attempt to get rid of any tears. She fails.

But with one smooth swipe Becky brushes tears away from Charlotte’s cheek. The sweep of Becky’s thumb feels familiar and overtly intimate.

“I don’t even know who I am anymore. I have a job I didn’t really want, an organisation that takes up all of my time, a fiancée who doesn’t seem interested in me and I don’t think I even... the list goes on.”

Becky thinks that Charlotte’s words are a bit like ice cream that is melting on a hot summer’s day: there’s a softness to them, then they drip into the atmosphere of the place and spill outwards and everything feels sticky.

“Well, you’re Charlotte Flair,” Becky answers eventually. “You’re kind and smart and funny an’ you don’t give up. You try to fix everything and not cause of any agenda but because you really wanna help. You have the best intentions and a big heart and… “

“And?”

“Well, you’re kinda beautiful too.”

“Thank you,” Charlotte says, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“For what?”

“For being you,” Charlotte’s voice wavers this time.

“It’s alright, y’know -”

Charlotte stops Becky talking with a kiss.

It’s a faint press of lips.

A soft, gentle pressure; a delicate little butterfly of a kiss.

And there’s no cliché fireworks or sparks because it is even better than that - it’s a wave of warmth that rushes through Charlotte. It fills her up, from the middle of her chest outwards, rushing to every corner of her body: it sneaks between her ribs and to the tips of fingers and toes and then to the tips of her ears. 

And with her eyes closed she doesn’t see the darkness, she just sees colours of Becky and she tastes the subtlest hint of the expensive whisky that Becky has been drinking.

It is a tender kiss that apparently can’t wait any longer.

Becky’s hand drifts to her hip and it settles there as she pulls Charlotte closer. Charlotte splays her hand against Becky’s chest, fully intending to push her away and stop this, but instead she leaves it there and Becky kisses her harder, and Charlotte can’t do anything but take it.

Charlotte pulls her mouth away from Becky’s gently and they break apart. Charlotte keeps her eyes closed, afraid of the reality that will hit when she opens them.

“I shouldn’t have done that.” Charlotte hates how gravelly her voice sounds then because she knows that Becky knows that she’s lying. “We can’t do this.”

“I know.”

Charlotte moves her head so that her nose nudges against Becky’s and their foreheads are touching.

She’s like the snake pushing the apple towards Eve.

Adrenaline floods her system and it pumps and beats like it is trying to escape. She reaches a nervous hand up and adjusts Becky’s tie a little, pushing it upwards so that it should be where it is supposed to and she feels Becky sigh against her.

But then the guilt comes, it curls inside of her and clings to her ribs, swelling uncomfortably in her chest like a balloon. She doesn’t doubt that it is there to stay either, reminding her of what the fuck she has just done.

“Charlie,” Becky says in a whisper so quiet that Charlotte barely hears it, so loud that it makes the earth around her tremble.

And then Becky looks up at her and a flicker of pain sparks in Charlotte’s chest but she doesn’t let it flourish into a flame. Instead, she lets her body tingle with energy; she lets her heart pump loudly behind her rib cage and for a second Charlotte feels more alive than she has in years.

A jolt of warmth, fierce with both relief and anxiety, rip through her like lightning when her eyes meet Becky’s.

It’s one of those moments that would have had dramatic, thrilling music if it happened in a movie, but instead they get a low babble of conversation and the muffled sound of music in the background.

Becky runs her thumb over Charlotte’s cheekbone and then Becky kisses her as if she has just invented what kissing actually is and she wants to give Charlotte a proper demonstration.

She grabs at Becky’s collar, bringing them impossibly closer and she kisses Becky with an intensity that is completely foreign to her. Kissing Becky is like seeing the ocean for the very first time – embracing something so big that it makes you feel small.

It shouldn’t be happening, but it is, and Charlotte doesn’t want it to stop. 

“Char, are you out here?” Nattie’s voice comes from behind Charlotte and it snaps her back to reality. Charlotte steps back from Becky and Becky turns around, wiping her lips with the back of her hand because she is sure that Charlotte’s lipstick is on her mouth.

Charlotte takes a deep inhale of breath and then takes a few steps away from where Becky is standing. When she looks up at Nattie there’s an electrical storm that sweeps through her brain, and quite honestly, it is painful. Different from a headache but it has the same intense pain.

“Oh, you have to be kidding me,” Nattie says, her arms folded across her chest.

“Nattie -”

Nattie puts her hand up, “Tyler is looking for you. You know, your fiancée. There’s some guy causing trouble in there, security have removed him.” Nattie gazes at Charlotte with a look that Charlotte can’t quite understand before she turns back around to walk back inside. She stops at the door, turning back towards them both. “Oh, and it’s nice to finally meet you, Becky.”

It is in this moment that the flash of anger protects Charlotte from the pain. “What the fuck did we just do?”

“Charlotte,” Becky says as she reaches a hand out in Charlotte’s direction. Becky is amazed that her voice sounds almost normal because she can feel the adrenaline riding around her body like a freight train.

“Don’t, just don’t… I have to find Tyler.” Charlotte adjusts her dress and heads towards the door. She glances back once before she disappears out of view.

When Charlotte leaves, Becky has to make herself breathe. She has to will her hands to stop shaking. She has to collect herself. After a few moments she can feel the panic begin to bleed away, replaced by stillness and an aching calm.

Her heart skips a painful beat and the sudden awareness of what they have just done fills the space.

It hurts.

It’s a new wound to add to her collection, a new scar maybe too.

Or maybe it’s the dawning realisation that Charlotte might be the answer to a wish that Becky hadn’t even realised she’d made.

*****

Becky hangs her suit jacket up on the back of her bedroom door.

Then she begins on the buttons of her shirt, careful so that she doesn’t rip at any of them. She starts at the bottom and works her way up until she reaches the top two that are still covered by her black tie.

She works the tie loose with her fingers, pulling it downwards harshly when the fabric initially resists. It feels a lot like relief when she pulls it over her head and away from her neck.

She replays everything over in her mind and she wonders – irrationally – if she can still feel the welcoming pressure of Charlotte’s lips on her own.

It’s been a long time since Becky has dared to let anyone in behind the walls that she’s built around her. It’s been so long that Becky has almost forgotten the familiar ache that it can bring to you.

She’s been face down in the ocean and maybe Charlotte has been the lifeboat she has needed all along.

The question now isn’t whether Becky wants Charlotte.

The question is how is she going to be able to give her up?


	7. don't speak, i know just what you're sayin', so please stop explainin', don't tell me cause it hurts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said the pressure was about to really crank up? Yeah... 
> 
> This has been a bit of a beast to write so we hope you enjoy it and thank you for all the kudos/reviews that you have left this story it is so appreciated!

Charlotte wakes up as if her mind has called some emergency meeting, like sleeping has become a dangerous thing for her to do. Her heart thuds in her chest and there is a buzzing in her head, and combined together they are like panic with jump leads and her brain is a flat battery.

The exertions of the night before start to play out in her mind like an awkward home movie and Charlotte can’t help but watch it unfold all over again. Aside from her own breathing there is nothing to be heard in the bedroom. Slowly she presses her palms to her eyes and watches the explosion of colour erupt behind her eyelids.

Charlotte wills herself to forget about the kiss.

She wills herself to forget the absolute truth about the way she felt during that kiss too.

In fact she wills herself not to think about Becky at all.

A kiss can be deceiving, how something so brief and small can perhaps hold so much. It is like fitting the ocean into a teacup.

By the time she opens her eyes fully, her brain has become overwhelmed as if everything is fresh, and new and raw which she supposes that it is. She wishes she could go back and linger in that blissful ignorance of sleep but she can’t.

The other side of the bed is empty and has been for some time. She vaguely recalls Tyler leaving earlier in the morning and, when she looks across the bedroom floor, his running shoes are gone and Charlotte heaves out a heavy sigh of relief.

When the gnawing guilt comes it takes her down a new path and she wants to refuse to walk it, pretend that she isn’t the kind of person who kisses their personal bodyguard when they have a fiancée.

Spoiler: she obviously is.

For what it is worth though, she doesn’t want to see herself in perfect colour but she doesn’t want to see herself in black and white either. She wants to scrub her head clean but she can’t because life isn’t as easy as that.

Emotion in situations like this has various flavours and feelings. There is that heavy, dull feeling that arrives during the quiet hours when you’re laying in bed and you can’t sleep and it feels like it is pulling your stomach towards your feet.

There is that sharp flavour that zips through your body like lightening and it rallies you and it moves you forward, and it tastes a lot like strength.

And then there’s that unknown feeling, the one that everyone experiences when they are going through something they haven’t before, where it feels like there’s a sponge stuck in your throat and your body is drawn as tight as a violin string that is trembling on a particular note that can’t be sustained for much longer because you know the hand is about to slip and the note will crash into a horrible screech.

That is the kind of feeling that Charlotte is currently experiencing. The unknown sensation that leaves her with horrible tension and a strange taste in her mouth where she has bitten the inside of her cheek too hard but not enough for it to burst and bleed.

When she finally gets up and out of bed there is a shard of something sitting deep in her chest cavity and despite her best efforts, Charlotte finds it difficult to breathe.

What Charlotte has learned recently is that it is stupid to be certain of anything in your life. The world is complex and difficult and only idiots think they have everything figured out.

*****

Charlotte stands next to the window, watching as a fine mist of rain falls outside. It conjures up sweet intricate patterns against the window pane, tiny little liquid globes that reflect the light outside.

She looks over her shoulder as Nattie pulls out two mugs from a shelf in the cupboard before walking over and taking a seat at the kitchen island. She fidgets for a few moments, watching as Nattie adds sugar to her own mug but none to Charlotte’s and it eases Charlotte’s nerves.

They have barely spoken since Charlotte arrived. Nattie just works away in silence while she makes them their coffee, as if that is the secret ingredient that is going to be needed for this inevitable conversation. Charlotte wonders if they would be better off drinking something stronger.

“Right, let’s talk about this,” Nattie says, as she finally sets a mug of coffee down in front of Charlotte. “And, please, don’t say it wasn’t what it looked like because I know and you know, it is exactly what it looked like.”

Charlotte doesn’t really have an answer so the place is bathed in quiet again while she attempts to stare down into the bottom of her coffee. She feels the dread creep down her spine like a careful spider leaving a trail of silk, accompanied with the invisible demon of guilt that is sitting on her shoulder and sharpening its knife in her ear.

“I don’t know what to say,” Charlotte murmurs, leaning her head back towards the kitchen ceiling. “I really don’t.”

“I don’t believe you,” Nattie says, setting her own coffee down and leaning across the island with her hand so that it cover’s Charlotte’s own. “I’m not here to judge, you know that. I just want to know what is going on with you… and Becky I guess.”

Charlotte pauses, tapping her fingernail against the mug. “I don’t know what I was I doing.”

On cue, Nattie takes a sip of her coffee, savours the taste, and then sighs. “Well, did you want to kiss Becky? Or did she-”

“No,” Charlotte protests, and Nattie can see the troubled expression flit across her friend’s face. “It was me who kissed her first… you just caught the aftermath.”

“Is it tacky to ask if you enjoyed it?” Nattie asks with a quiet smile.

Charlotte quirks a brow. “Really? I cheat on my fiancée with someone who works with me and you’re asking if I enjoyed the kiss with her?”

“It’s important.”

“It is not important, it’s -” Charlotte lets out a frustrated groan. “It was… different.”

“So, you enjoyed it then.”

This, at last, makes Charlotte relax a little and she finds herself shaking her head. “I did and that’s a problem.”

“Well, yeah, that’s a problem. Do you like Becky? Because if you do-”

“It can’t happen,” Charlotte interrupts, rubbing at her temple.

“It could. If you wanted it to.”

There’s nothing Charlotte can think to say so she stays quiet instead, swallowing slowly, trying to steer through the slightly awkward fog that has settled between them again.

“It can’t.”

“You don’t need to figure this out right now, Charlotte. If you need help to process it then I’ll be here but you can’t stay in this limbo forever.”

Charlotte blows out a breath and stares across the island at Nattie who doesn’t flinch. “I need the kind of help that comes with a side order of more help.”

“You’ve got a big heart, Char. You just hide it better than most.”

“I think I’ve started hiding it from myself too then,” Charlotte admits.

“Well, that’s always the problem,” Nattie says in response, “then one day you can’t remember where you left all the pieces you tried so hard to hide or why you wanted to hide them in the first place.”

“I’m… afraid I’ve become attached to her.”

Maybe one day, when it comes to Becky, the words will slip out like all the others, easy and smooth on their own. Right now they take pieces of Charlotte with them.

“That’s a fancy way of saying you have feelings for her, and you know it.”

“It makes me feel shitty.” Charlotte sags back in the stool. “I hate having all these secrets, Nat.”

Charlotte has never liked secrets.

Not even when she was a kid in the playground or a teenager at school.

Most secrets are just word of mouth. Gossip shared and whispered between people, like sand in your shoe. At first you can barely feel it but then when you do it grows irritating and insufferable. Secrets like that tend to grow bigger the more you try and keep them in, pushing until they break free from your lips.

Secrets of the heart are different. They hurt. They are private and painful, and we always try and hide them away from other people. They don’t push to get free, they burrow underneath the surface of your chest and the longer they stay there the worse they become.

“What am I going to do?” Charlotte asks faintly.

“I don’t know. What do you want to do? That’s what it all boils down to in the end,” Nattie explains. “Does Becky mean that much to you that you want to risk everything you have right now?”

“Oh God, this was a bad idea.”

“Are you saying you don’t want her then?” Nattie prods.

“No, I’m saying it is a bad idea.”

Charlotte feels lost and confused. She’s like a tangled ball of string. The parts that are untangled are useable and available; the rest is simply a mess, useless until it is all untied.

“It hurts though, doesn’t it?” Nattie asks.

“What does?”

“Your feelings, and what you want to do with them but can’t.” 

Charlotte wonders if it is the questions that you can’t answer that teach you the most in life. They teach you how to think on your own and when you find your own answer to a big burning question then it means more for some reason.

Answers are always important, but they are rarely easy to give.

Charlotte’s heart, caged like a bird in her chest, thrums away with a weird sort of desolate beat.

And, yes, it certainly does hurt.

*****

It has been radio silence since the gala and now that Charlotte is at work she is bombarded with second thoughts about showing up at all which is ludicrous in itself. She doesn’t even mind that the elevator is packed and that it has to make about fifty stops before her floor to let people on and off.

Maybe it would have been easier to talk to Becky yesterday. Maybe she should have returned a phone call or a text. Maybe she should have just gotten it all over with before this morning came around.

Charlotte feels her chest tighten. Is this how it’s going to be from now on?

She goes through the motions of her early morning work ritual in a cloudy, surreal haze - filtering through emails, sorting through paperwork and talking to Dana about the week’s schedule. The first game of the season is this weekend and everything is building towards it.

“Ah, so you are alive then.” Becky slips a hand onto her hip and she leans against the office door. “Any particular reason you couldn’t let me know that yesterday or?”

Charlotte’s finds her heart racing. “Just come in and shut the door behind you.”

Becky does, and then she strides across the floor in a few short steps before she is sitting across from Charlotte. They sit face to face and there’s a few seconds of silence where they just stare and study each other.

“I know this isn’t going to be a good conversation,” Becky says, “but you should just tell me anyway, I’m ready for it.”

That’s not really true because you’re never ready for it and Becky is no different. We all just lie and say that we’re ready for it and hope that when the punch comes our chin is tough enough to take the hit so that we don’t go down like a tonne of bricks.

“What happened between us,” Charlotte says, gesturing between them, her eyes closing for a heavy and painful moment and when she opens them her expression has been schooled into something carefully blank which is totally at odds with the blood rushing in her ears. “Cannot happen again.”

“Charlie-”

“No.” Charlotte raises a palm up in Becky’s direction and she forces calm into her voice. “It was a huge mistake, Becky. One that can never be repeated.”

Becky stares down at her hands, clenching and twisting them as if doing so will hold back the inner turmoil that’s raging inside of her. Distress seeps into the office, expelled on her breath while she tries to bite down the sting that Charlotte’s words bring to her.

And it is not as if Becky hasn’t been expecting this because after the second ignored text it’s not a difficult riddle to solve but still, it hurts.

And it is also bullshit.

“Why are you lyin’ to yourself?”

It was just a kiss. Charlotte tries repeating it over and over, but her heart betrays her.

“It was just a kiss, Becky. We made a _mistake_. What part of that do you not understand?”

“A mistake that happened twice.”

“Can you not do that?”

“Do what? Tell the truth? You kissed me and I kissed you. Funny mistake to make twice.”

The immediate thoughts in Charlotte’s head take her off guard, though she is struggling to deny that maybe they are true. Becky has came barrelling into her life, so unexpected, and yet, it feels a lot like Becky is the type of person who she has been waiting for.

The thoughts scare the shit out of her and it leaves her mind reeling. She can’t stop the guilt that continues to eat away at her like a parasite every time she looks down at her left hand and sees the ring that she is currently wearing. 

And it is like something in the atmosphere of the room suddenly changes – the air becomes thicker, loaded with tension and stress, and it feels like there is real pressure pressing to get in beside them.

“Becky,” Charlotte says, her tone careless but there’s an underlying sharp edge to it that Becky’s never heard before. “You can take the day off if you want to… or we can go about our business as usual. You do your job and I’ll do mine. The choice is yours.”

Charlotte sits back on her chair, her hands clasped together on the desk, waiting for Becky’s answer.

There’s an odd steel about Charlotte’s expression.

Charlotte looks serious but Becky can’t help but push back.

“So, if we ignore it, it’ll go away? Right. Definitely sounds like a Flair thing to do.”

Becky’s emotions feel loud and big, and it’s hard for her to keep a lid on them at times. They weigh her down, making her feel tired and irritated.

“You’re unbelievable, Becky!”

“An’ you like it.”

That hits Charlotte in the gut for some reason and all she can do is gaze up at Becky. Taking advantage, Becky leans across the desk and dips her face close to Charlotte’s own.

“Cause you’re under my skin an’ I’m under yours.”

Charlotte shakes her head and Becky’s face gets even closer. All Charlotte can see is Becky’s dark eyes, and all she can feel is Becky’s lips a breath away from her own and Charlotte feels incredibly vulnerable sitting there.

“I like you bein’ under my skin, an' you like me there too.”

Charlotte’s jaw clenches, her tone low and lethal. “I said _enough._”

Becky flattens her hands on Charlotte’s desk with eerie calm. “Truth hurts, Charlotte.”

Charlotte’s vision clouds white. She is sitting at her desk like a statue facing a tidal wave of honesty and there’s nothing she can do to stop it. “Get to work or get out of my office.”

Eventually, Becky pulls away and she makes a show of trying to fix her tie. Charlotte watches the way her jaw ticks and her lips press together in a huff and Charlotte knows that she is annoyed.

“I’ll be over here if you need me, Charlotte.”

-

It slowly begins to dawn on Becky that she has been staring at Charlotte for a long time. Lost in her thoughts, lost in the sight of her. But Charlotte doesn’t look amused or angry. It looks like Charlotte is just there, waiting for something to happen.

Becky wants to tell Charlotte that she is the most beautiful thing she has seen in years. The sight of Charlotte sighing at something on her computer screen has Becky looking more closely, studying the lines of Charlotte’s face.

It is in that moment where Becky almost asks about Saturday night again but she knows that it is useless to pick at something that she needs to let heal. She feels the questions bubbling up in her chest. She draws in a breath, then she hesitates – what can she say really? Nothing, or Charlotte has made it perfectly clear she won’t be working here for much longer.

She closes her mouth and looks out the window. She can feel the heat of Charlotte across from her and she smells like sweet perfume, the way the air smells before heavy rain in the summer.  
  
It’s the sharpest pain Becky has felt for a long time.

*****

The alarm clock is rude, so very rude. From the middle of some foggy dream Becky is brought sharply into focus. After the initial annoyance passes, her frustration at this inanimate phone that will never grant her an apology of any kind, she breathes long and slow.

When she gets up and looks out of the window, the darkness is finally losing its battle with the early light. She decides against picking up any food and heads out with her gym bag over her shoulder and leaves her apartment for the gym.

After a quick warm up, Becky climbs up onto the treadmill, settling into a steady rhythm before she dials the speed up. It makes for a gruelling pace and it helps her keep focused, otherwise, she is liable to do something really stupid like quit her current job with Charlotte. She runs for three miles until the urge to do just that passes.

“Becky?” Sasha seems genuinely surprised to see Becky there, getting strapped into the rowing machine before pulling backwards on the handle as she pushes off from her legs at the same time.

“You made it.”

“Barely. You wanna tell me why you wanted to meet me at this godforsaken time of the morning?”

“It’s good for you.”

“You know what else is good for me? Sleep. Speaking of which… did you actually get any last night?” Sasha says as she climbs onto the rowing machine that is next to Becky’s. “You look like shit.”

“This is why I keep you around,” Becky huffs as she pulls her body back again and her muscles are beginning to burn at the lack of fuel. “It’s better at this time, there’s less people around.”

Hoping that closing her eyes will give her something else to focus on, Becky pushes harder, fully aware that Sasha is currently staring at her, wondering what the hell is going on.

“Aren’t you gonna warm up?” Becky asks, her voice slightly ragged.

“I don’t plan on doing much. Is everything okay with you?”

“Fine.”

The burning of her muscles has an unpleasant warmth to it, eating at Becky’s stomach. Beside her, Sasha stays quiet, just staying focused on the weathered red brick wall of the gym as she attempts to get into the same kind of rowing pattern as Becky.

“I could kill you, I hope you know that,” Sasha grits after a few minutes of quiet between them. “I should still be in bed.”

“Just keep rowin’.”

Sasha does as Becky says even though rowing is terrible, especially at this time of the morning. She continues for another few minutes before she comes to a stop and grabs her water bottle. Becky, however, is still rowing away at a frightening pace.

“Becky?” Sasha says after she catches her breath, and her voice is softer than Becky can ever remember hearing it. “What’s wrong? You’re sucking all the air out of the room and I’m worried you’re coming after my lungs next.” 

Becky can’t hold back a frustrated sigh as she comes to a stop. She starts to say something but she finds she doesn’t trust her own voice right now, something she isn’t prone to, so she says nothing for a moment.

She wonders what Sasha’s reaction will be when she finally speaks, what Sasha will say to her about the whole thing. She wonders if it is maybe better not to say anything at all because if she doesn’t then maybe this whole thing will blow over.

Becky isn’t sure who she is trying to kid.

“Um, how do I explain this,” Becky starts slowly, “Charlotte kissed me… and I kinda kissed her back.”

Sasha stares at her like she’s just performed a magic trick. She can imagine the sparks in Sasha’s brain, desperately trying to connect the dots instead of causing a short circuit.

“Wait, you’re shitting me, right?”

“Nah.” Becky slumps forward on the machine. “I’m not.”

Sasha nods slowly, “Does Charlotte actually enjoy these scandals or -”

“It’s not a scandal.”

Sasha sighs, heavy and long until Becky looks across at her. “It’s gonna be a scandal. Becky, you have to think about your job -”

“I know all of that, Sasha,” Becky says hotly, “I didn’t invite you here for a lecture, I just… I dunno.”

Sasha nods again, looking entirely unconvinced, and Becky tries to make herself magically disappear.

“It ain’t gonna happen again,” Becky murmurs after a few beats, “I’m not the kinda person for Charlotte, I got that loud and clear yesterday at work.”

Sasha stares at her, trying to figure out what to say, except she really doesn’t know how to counter that without offering a side dish of violence.

“Isn’t she engaged?”

“Yeah.”

“He was that tall, stuck up one who introduced us to Alexa, right?”

“That’s him.”

“Well then, Charlotte’s fiancée,” Sasha grumbles, “he has one of those heads you wouldn’t mind knocking off.”

“Yeah.” Becky smiles ever so slightly. “Yeah, he does.”

“So, is that it? Is that all you gotta say about it? Not gonna go into how you feel about it at all?”

Becky scrunches her face, talking about feelings isn’t one of her stronger points and never has been. “I… dunno.”

“Well,” Sasha says, slowly. “Was it a spur of the moment thing or?”

Hope is a tricky thing. It sneaks up on you in unpredictable places, even when you’re sitting motionless on a rowing machine next to your best friend first thing in the morning.

Becky explains, “It’s weird cause on paper me an’ her don’t match but we just… click.”

“You like her, don’t you?”

That’s the funny thing about your heart though, sometimes it has no idea what it wants until the thing that it wants shows up. Life has a habit of throwing you curve balls and Becky knows that more than most.

The thing your heart wants can arrive by chance or accident or fate or whatever else there is in the universe or whatever else you might believe in.

It is like when you go to a clothes sale on the off chance you might find something that you want and then you see an awesome t-shirt and you know that you want it and you know it’s been worth your time going there.

You didn’t go looking for that specific t-shirt but you found it anyway and now that is exactly what you want and you want to keep it.

“I think so.”

“You never do anything the easy way, huh?” Sasha asks.

“What’s the easy way?”

*****

It has been a long week and it is still only Wednesday.

Charlotte pinches the bridge of her nose and swivels her chair around so that she can stare out of the window. She winces, brows furrowing tight with pain as she feels a throbbing headache developing beneath her temples.

She has had back-to-back meetings all morning and this lunch break has been the only semblance of peace that she has been able to have. The office is quiet except for the patter of rain against the glass; it falls freely from a confident sky. It’s the sort of rain that washes everything anew, bringing puddles of water that kids usually want to jump in.

Outside the pleasantries that come from working together, her and Becky have barely said two words to each other. Becky does her job and Charlotte does hers. There is no flowing conversation or silly jokes or laughs, and it is not as if Charlotte had been expecting anything else from this situation because she hadn’t but still… it feels strange to adjust back to this. The atmosphere is uncomfortable when they are together now, like an itch that you can’t quite reach.

Charlotte is also lacking in coffee. And, sure, she could head out and get some herself or even ask Dana to bring her an order but she can’t be bothered with any unnecessary human interaction and she’s enjoying the relative quiet and privacy that her office brings. Maybe she should just lock her office door and keep everything outside with it.

Instead, she chooses to lean her head back against her chair and close her eyes.

It is the strong smell of coffee that first alerts her to the fact that she isn’t alone anymore. Her eyes open and she uses her legs to twirl the seat back around towards the direction of her desk - it’s a feeble attempt at pretending that she hadn’t been dozing off – where Becky is standing, looking a little sheepish at what she has just found.

“Hi.” Charlotte’s brow furrows as her smile is quickly replaced by a frown. “Did you forget something?”

“Nah,” Becky says, sitting a paper bag down next to a coffee. “I just thought you could use some of this today. It was… a long mornin’.”

“What’s in the bag?”

Becky shrugs. “Just a couple pastries, they are still warm though so, better have em’ now.”

“You want one?” Charlotte asks.

“Sure.”

They end up sitting together at Charlotte’s desk, coffees in hand like some new accessory, in relative silence. Charlotte doesn’t pretend to misunderstand what the coffee and pastry gesture mean and Becky doesn’t elaborate on why she did it in the first place.  
  
It is what it is.

“So,” Becky begins, eventually. “How did the Gala go… like, for the club I mean?”

“Well,” Charlotte says slowly, swallowing a mouthful of coffee first so that she will be able to give herself a moment. “It went good, I think? There was no negative press about it and everyone… well, most people seem excited about Saturday and the season kicking off.”

“Well that’s good then.”

“Luckily the guy that got thrown out didn’t make the press,” Charlotte continues, “what an ass.”

Becky rolls her eyes at Charlotte’s casual tone. “Trust you to worry about photographers.”

“Hey,” Charlotte argues, “you know what it’s like at those kind of events. They are like vultures.”

“Sure, I know,” Becky agrees, taking a sip of her drink before putting it back down. “That’s why you hired Finn to help you out.”

“He’s good, I’ll give you that.”

“Course he is.” Becky pauses, reaching across to break off a bit of her pastry. It’s a stalling tactic and Charlotte knows it. “He gets it from me. Taught him everythin' he knows.”

“And trust you to make a smart ass comment like that.”

“Eh,” Becky shrugs, “it’s been known.”

“How… how have you been? We haven’t really spoken and…” Charlotte trails off at that. She has just jumped into now uncharted territory without any thought of where the fuck this conversation could lead them again.

Becky doesn’t really appreciate the intrusive memory that Charlotte’s words bring because she knows what Charlotte is getting at. Becky thinks that Charlotte would like to make this thing between them black and white – to be on one side or the other. But it isn’t that simple because it never usually is and Charlotte is probably going to have to accept that maybe her and Becky are just something inbetween.

“I’ve been fine."

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Becky smiles, a sad sort of smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “I’m all good.”

“So,” Charlotte speaks, her usual clear tone is undercut with a choking heaviness that forces her to take a breath. “Are… we okay?”

It feels like the temperature has dropped a few degrees in the office. Automatically, Becky reaches for her coffee before realising that it is now empty.

It hurts Becky, hearing the question in this manner, but then again, what doesn’t hurt? Pain lets you know that you’re alive and makes sure you appreciate the happiness when it comes a long. It’s all about balance.

“We’re alright, Charlotte,” Becky says quietly. “Are you alright?”

Obliging her, Charlotte says, “Yeah, I’m okay.”

After an awkward pause, Becky extends her hand. “So we’re good?”

Charlotte hesitates for a moment before reaching out quickly, as if she is sticking her hand into a blazing fire. Nothing happens and both of them almost look surprised.

“Yeah, we’re good.”

They’re clearly not good.  
  
Becky forces out a smile and Charlotte finds herself relaxing a little.  
  
It’s because of Becky’s eyes, they are always kind to her.

*****

_The Directors box sits on the half way line, halfway up the ‘Flair Stand’ in the AllStar Arena. It’s a different experience from watching it in amongst the crowd like a regular supporter._

_From this vantage point, the scene looks manic. There are masses of swirling blue, scattered all over the stadium, with a tiny pocket of red in the far away corner. The crowd is heavily weighted in the Royals’ favour. The stadium is buzzing with tension, ready for the biggest game of the season so far, a season which unfortunately hasn’t brought much joy._

_Derby day. The Royals vs Titans United. The two most popular clubs in the city and the rivalry between them has become deeply embedded in women’s soccer culture. The Royals shade Titans United on head to head victories by just two but the Titans have far better form this season so far._

_The piercing hot rays of sun beam down on the crowd and there’s not a single cloud in the sky to spoil the brilliant sheet of blue above them._

_Her father hands her and Tyler a glass of the most expensive liquor the stadium has, he sits next to her as he looks down at the pitch with the sort of pride Charlotte is accustomed to._

_There’s flag bearers lined up on the edge of the grass, waving them in sync with the sound of the crowd as the teams emerge onto the field. Charlotte can feel the noise push into her chest._

_The voice over the speaker announces the team line-ups over the crowd, and there’s a cacophony of applause and clapping and the palpable excitement reaches through the charged air to where she is sitting. There are infectious grins, stranger’s high fiving and patting one another on the back. When the crowd starts singing it is like a wall of noise and Charlotte finds her eyes welling up for some reason._

_This is her club._

_“You ready for this, sweetheart?” Tyler asks, a question Charlotte knows is reflexive. “I’m sorry, of course you are.”  
  
Charlotte turns and looks at him. He’s handsome in all the right ways. _

_“I think we’ll win,” Charlotte says confidently. She doesn’t know why she is so confident given everything points to a Titans United victory but it’s there all the same, maybe it’s just wishful thinking. “Do you?”_

_“We’re in with a chance,” Tyler answers, taking Charlotte’s hand into his own._

_By the time the game is into the last ten minutes, Charlotte’s nerves are all but shredded. The Royals have hit the post twice and the Titans have missed a penalty kick but if she is being biased, and she is, the Royals have been the better side so far. She leans forward in her seat as the Royals go on their next attack._

_Kairi takes the ball on a mazy run, skipping past two defenders before she is brutally brought down by a crunching tackle on the edge of the penalty box. The crowd are immediately on their feet, jeering and stomping their feet in protest at the referee._

_“Give it to Alexa,” Charlotte murmurs, “for God sake, give the ball to Alexa.”_

_Tyler squeezes her arm._

*****

The day is stifling. The heat rolls off every surface in waves but despite the full light there is no sunshine. A thick haze blankets the sky turning everything a dull grey colour instead.

The stadium isn’t full but the turn out is above expectations given everything that has happened over the past few months. Becky supposes it has something to do with standing by the underdog because everyone loves an underdog story. It looks like the Royals’ fans are no different in that respect.

Becky has been in this stadium before - various times as a fan - but not where she is sitting right now. She has a perfect view of the whole pitch from a comfortable plush seat, and yeah, she could definitely get used to this kind of experience.

“You nervous?”

Charlotte tilts her head a little, considering. “Well yeah, I guess. We win today and everyone goes home full of some positivity for the season ahead, we lose and…” Charlotte trails off and shudders, and her eyes go half lidded. One hand goes unconsciously to the back of her neck. “You know what I mean.”

“We’ll win today.”

“You think?”

“Why not? It’s eleven versus eleven at the end of the day an’ we’re at home.”

They’ve both agreed that they are okay.

They both know that there’s a giant elephant in the room that they aren’t talking about. 

Becky wonders if they ever will again.

It’s almost like a non-negotiable bad business deal. It has been signed, sealed, delivered and there’s no reason to ever bring it up again. It has been resigned to the history books.

But Becky can see how it still troubles Charlotte even if she won’t ever admit it to Becky herself. She sees how Charlotte twists the diamond on her ring finger when the office is quiet; how she has to force herself to keep eye contact with Becky now, like she doesn’t trust either of them; how she catches Charlotte looking at her every so often with an expression that Becky finds difficult to read.

It is emotional warfare for Becky on the inside.

It’s the feeling of uncomfortable tension that comes from holding two conflicting thoughts in her mind at the same time. The thought that they really need to talk about it and the other thought that if they do then everything will go haywire and the implications of it for them both are major.

Becky has found that sometimes it is better to retreat from inevitable conflict. Sometimes it is better to take a step back and find another route around the issue that is going on. That’s why she is trying to make peace with this apparent truce that they are having.

She hides it better than Charlotte though. Becky isn’t one of those people that anyone can read easily but this whole situation is a burden, and Becky’s shoulders are beginning to feel the strain.

“I guess you have a point,” Charlotte eventually answers. “It would just be great to kick this season off with a win, you know?” 

“I get that for sure.” 

Becky goes to reach out for Charlotte’s hand and then she stops. Is that even allowed now? She must think about it for too long though because when Charlotte asks her something, Becky has to shake her head to clear it and refocus. 

“What?” 

“I asked if Sasha and Bayley are coming to the game?” 

“Oh,” Becky muses, “yeah. They are somewhere…” Becky stands to have a look around before she is pointing over to the left hand side of the other stand, “over here.” 

“I can get them tickets for in here the next time,” Charlotte offers, “they seem a great pair.” 

“They are, but you don’t have to do that, Charlie – Charlotte.” 

The expression on Charlotte’s face makes Becky’s stomach lurch a little but then Charlotte waves it off and Becky doesn’t know what that’s in response to, calling her Charlie or the offering of the tickets. 

“Although Sasha wouldn’t turn em’ down,” Becky jokes, it’s an attempt to lighten the mood and it must work because she finds Charlotte rolling her eyes fondly. “Is your dad comin’ to the game today?”

“No,” Charlotte says, shaking her head, “I didn’t think it would be a good idea with everything. Tyler is with him.”

“Tyler isn’t comin' to watch the game with you here?”

“No. He offered to stay with my dad.”

“Ah, I see.”

Charlotte can’t tell if there is judgment in Becky’s voice or if it is just curiosity. It’s probably a combination of both.

-

“What are you doin’?!” Becky roars, leaning forward on her seat. “Did you see that? Bullshit.”

“She should have played it down this side,” Charlotte sighs.

“Nah, she should have played it out left, Kairi was running right on to it!”

“Yeah, but this side was wide open,” Charlotte argues, “you play it down this side and it takes two defenders out the game.”

Becky takes a second to consider what Charlotte has said and despite her reluctance, she has to admit that on this occasion Charlotte is probably right in what she is saying.

“I still think it would have been better out left.”

“No you don’t,” Charlotte says, nudging Becky with her elbow. “You just don’t want to admit I’m right.”

Becky laughs, that rich, boisterous laugh that seems to emerge from the center of her soul, because Becky doesn’t do anything half assed. She laughs the way that she lives – fiercely.

“Whatever,” Becky says. “Oh, for fuck sake!”

And then Becky is standing up on her feet as she yells some more at what is going on on the pitch. It seems to come from deep within her, so much so that it forces its way from her mouth, like this game has unleashed some sort of crazy, loud demon.

And for some strange reason that she doesn’t understand herself, Charlotte finds the whole thing weirdly endearing.  
  
Charlotte has also learned that sometimes, watching someone or standing beside them, looking at a city or watching a soccer game, is far more communicative than talking non stop.

“Are you always so loud at these games?” Charlotte shouts over the rising sound of the crowd.

“Yeah, does that surprise you?”

Charlotte holds up her hands and laughs, meeting Becky’s eyes. “No. No it doesn’t at all, I’m glad you’re such a fan of the club.”

Charlotte wonders how they have managed to fall back into their familiar routine so quickly. Conversation has come more easily as the last few days have progressed and today it doesn’t feel any different to how it did before their kiss even happened. 

The ways they’ve gotten to know each other begin to jump out at Charlotte as they have done before and it is difficult to ignore again. 

It is difficult to keep it strictly professional. 

They fit in each other’s lives.  
  
Some how and in some way.

Maybe this isn’t their first time together; sometimes you meet a person and you just know that you’ve met them before.

*****

_“That’s a fuckin’ terrible tackle, ref!” Becky yells._

_“You have a dirty mouth, ya know that?” Sasha says from beside her. _

_“Fuck you. I do not.”_

_“Uh, yeah you do.”_

_“Fine, I do,” Becky says loudly over the crowd, “but I told you I would be like this, so. You took that risk comin’ here with me.”_

_“Who do you think will take the free kick?” _

_“Alexa, she’s the best player we have,” Becky answers before she turns her attention back onto the pitch. “Give the fuckin’ ball to Alexa!”_

_Becky has found over time that it is more nerve wracking to watch sport than it is to participate in it. She supposes it has something to do with the fact that you don’t have any control over the outcome when you are watching it – you can shout and sing and yell all you want but ultimately, it isn’t going to make a blind bit of difference to the end result._

_At least when she was in the ring she had the control._

_Well, she usually did._

_The pain that comes isn’t sharp like a knife, instead it simmers so that she feels like she is going to be scalded, a hot ache in the pit of her stomach. And as the wave of pain washes over her, it is debilitating and exquisite all at the same time, so much so that she is able to blank everything else out for a few moments._

_“You good?” Sasha asks, nudging at Becky’s arm._

_“All good.”_

_When Alexa sits the ball down, preparing to shoot, she stands almost perfectly upright, and raises her head for a good look at the goal. Her right arm comes out for balance and her left arm is flung out for power, and the inside of her right foot strikes the ball just off center, so that its swerve will confuse the keeper._

_It miraculously hits off the post – again – but this time instead of bouncing outwards it bounces inwards, rippling the net and the explosion of noise from everyone is nothing like Becky has ever heard before._

_The Royals win._

_And when she and Sasha stumble out of Sasha’s bar at an ungodly hour of the morning with other fans after celebrating the unlikely victory, Becky knows that Sasha is a friend for life.   
_

*****

It is quiet by the time they leave the stadium - after Charlotte’s mini meetings and informal dinner with several important guests and directors of the club – and Becky is glad to be back out in the open San Francisco air.

It’s not that she dislikes the quality free food at these kind of events, it’s just that once you hear one director talking you’ve heard them all and after a few it feels like they are all saying the exact same thing and you have to just sit there and pretend that you are interested when you’re really not.

The humidity that engulfed the stadium earlier has all but gone and it has been replaced with threatening dense clouds that have covered the sky, muting the light and adding an early layer of darkness to the city. Becky leads them through the metal gate endorsed by the Royals’ logo and into the parking lot without stopping.

“It feels good to get away from all that,” Charlotte states, breathing in a lungful of air. “I mean, I’m glad it was a good day for the club but meetings should be banned on Saturday’s.”

“Agreed,” Becky says, “Saturday’s shouldn’t be a workin’ day in general.”

“You didn’t have to come today,” Charlotte answers softly, “I’d have managed this on my own.”

“Charlotte, this is my job. How many times -”

“Yeah, yeah.” Charlotte brushes it off with a wave of her hand. “I get it.”

“But I did tell you that we’d win today,” Becky says with a broad smile. “Didn’t I?”

“Oh, here we go.”

Becky laughs, nudging into Charlotte’s side gently. “I did!” 

Charlotte can only shake her head because yes, Becky did say they would win and she can’t exactly argue with that fact. An Alexa Bliss three goal blitz have gotten the Royals off to the perfect start and Charlotte couldn’t really ask for much more from the first game of the season.

“Fine, you did but you don’t get to gloat about it.”

“Just minus twenty seven points now,” Becky jokes. “It’s not that bad, y’know.”

Charlotte tucks her head down against the breeze that has begun to roll in and she tosses her hand up into the air. “You had to ruin it, didn’t you?”

Becky doesn’t answer, instead she comes to a sudden stop and Charlotte almost walks into her.

“Beck -”

Becky holds her hand up and her mouth flattens. “Hold on.”

She doesn’t know why, but something doesn’t seem right. Even as she’s scanning the parking lot; even though she can’t see anything out of the ordinary, Becky can feel it.

She feels something shift in her chest, and then a sense of dread starts to wash over her, her inner instinct blaring away that something isn’t quite right and Becky doesn’t tend to trust anyone’s instinct except her own.

“Becky,” Charlotte says quietly from beside her, “what are you doing?”

Charlotte doesn’t know if Becky has seen or heard something out of place, or if she is just being paranoid. But if she is being paranoid, it is contagious because Charlotte finds herself looking around the parking lot too.

“It’s nothin’.”

“You’re worried… and it makes me nervous because when you worry, I worry too.”

Becky looks at her and Charlotte’s shoulders lift in a shrug. “It’s just something that happens, I don’t have control over it.”

“I thought I saw… let’s just get out of here,” Becky answers eventually, her eyes switching to Charlotte, away, then back again and Charlotte swears that she sees something in there. A flash of uncertainty. Becky fishes her keys out of her jacket pocket before making a beeline for the SUV that sits a few rows down waiting for them. “C’mon.”

They make up the distance to the car quickly, Becky’s strides matching Charlotte’s own and she opens the car door so that Charlotte can climb inside first. Then she moves around to her own side, jumping in and fastening her seatbelt before Charlotte has even got herself sorted out.

Charlotte doesn’t process what is happening at first; her brain is slow to catch up with the reality of the situation. She hears the noises of outside when she knows that she shouldn’t from the car but then there’s a rough hand wrapped around her arm and she’s being dragged out from her seat and then pressed harshly up against the car.

Charlotte can smell him instantly, a horrible degraded odour, like stale sweat. She swallows, and it feels like she has to, just to get the smell out of her nose and throat. But it doesn’t go away. It comes off him like flakes of skin. She swallows again and again but can’t get rid of it.

He’s sweating so much that his hair is slick and coiled against his head, and his clothes are clinging to him. He looks agitated and nervous and as he leans in closer to her, Charlotte becomes stuck in place, like the concrete has grown roots, pinning her to the spot.

“Do... do you remember me?” he rushes out, and it sounds like he is pleading with her. A muscle twitches rapidly at the corner of his left eye and his mouth forms a rigid grimace when she doesn’t answer immediately. “Dammit! I’ve waited so long for this moment -”

“I -”

His voice, right at her ear now, sounds fierce and violent, like shattered glass. He almost whimpers when he speaks, and then he runs the back of his hand down her cheek and Charlotte feels the bile bubble in her throat. “To meet you face to face, to see you up close like this.”

Something stirs in Charlotte: a memory. I recognise you, Charlotte thinks, staring at him, trying to find the tail of the memory.

The Gala.

The whole incident must take seconds but it feels infinitely longer.

She doesn’t see Becky coming, in all honesty, she hasn’t even given Becky a second thought but it feels like getting hit with a train when Becky collides with him. Becky grabs at his neck and he ends up barrelling into Charlotte side on which sends her flying to the ground.

The man stumbles back but then he goes for Becky this time, throwing a vicious punch at her that she manages to dodge. She moves her feet quickly to get out of the way before advancing forward towards him again. It feels familiar in a way that she doesn’t really recognise anymore, she can’t remember the last time she’s had to dodge a punch like this but the reflex is still there. She jabs her right hand into his throat and he wheezes, a sound like air escaping from a valve, and then he stands unsteadily and looks at her.

He has a clear height and weight advantage but Becky knows to box well you have to box clever. You have to use the advantages that you have and she bets that she is quicker and much more experienced at this than him. He seems to sense that Becky is a threat because he shifts his weight from left to right and then he makes his move.

He shoves clumsily at Becky’s shoulders to knock her off balance and then he bolts, turning on his heels and making a run for the exit of the parking lot. The shift in his speed is deceptively quick and it takes Becky a second or two to get going.

“Hey!” Becky shouts, running now, trying to cut him off before he gets to the exit.

Gradually, the gap starts to close, the man finding it hard to keep up the pace and then he glances back at Becky for the first time. A second, maybe less – and he is focused in front of him again, finding acceleration from somewhere, a reserve of energy that Becky knows not everyone has.

She does though, and she continues to pursue him until the burst of energy he had begins to dwindle again. She debates about sticking her foot out in an attempt to trip him up but she knows that can go wrong, knows feet can get tangled and it’s not worth the hassle. Instead she makes a grab for him, launching herself forward so that the momentum takes them both down on her terms.

They end up in a tussle; Becky feels the guy’s fingers wiggle at either side of her shoulders like he is trying to get a better grip of her to push her away. Then – lightning fast – he catches her on the side of the head and Becky feels a tiny twinge of panic rising in her. She knows. She knows how quickly things can break and change. She knows how it can all come crashing down and there’s nothing you can do about it.

She manages to roll away, gaining some purchase on the concrete to put some distance between them.

“You don’t have to do this,” Becky yells, as he stands, “just stop.”

“Shut up,” he answers, his voice rising. Then he goes quiet again and all Becky can hear is Charlotte shouting her name from behind them. “Both of you shut the fuck up.”

“I can’t let you walk away from here,” Becky says, getting to her own feet. “You know that.”

Sweat glistens on his brow and he clasps his hands into fists, so tight that his knuckles turn white. “I said shut the fuck up.”

His eyes shut in hard blinks and Becky knows without any doubt that this situation is becoming far too serious for her liking. He gives Becky a fleeting smile before he rakes his hand over his face and then his eyes are blazing in Becky’s direction.

“I just wanted to see her, ya know? I just wanted her to see _me_. I’ve tried so many fucking times and she never sees me!”

“I get it,” Becky answers quickly, she can probably soothe him a little more, calm him until he loses his focus on what he is saying and doing so that she can get the opportunity to get this situation back until her control. “I understand.”

He nods frantically in Becky’s direction, taking a small step back in the process. “Yeah… you don’t recognise me either do you?”

Becky smiles. “Sure I do. You were at the Gala, right?”

“They made me leave. Do you know…” He shakes his head, laughing along as he does so, “Do you know what that was like?”

“Nah.”

“I suggest you let me leave.”

Becky thinks he sounds so serious that she debates it for a moment but she knows that she can’t. It goes against everything she knows.

He turns his back on Becky without another word and before she can even take a step to follow him he pivots a little and then Becky feels the blaze of cold pressure in her stomach. She looks down and sees his hand curled around a blade.

His eyes are wild, terrifying – even though he is the one with the knife. His teeth are gritted, his face contorted in anger and Becky freezes.

The blade is inside her stomach, just below her right rib cage. A piercing pain, cold and hard, drives into the space inside of her. Nerve endings fire, sending waves, like an internal alarm, shooting into her fingers and toes and her head. Everything blurs: her sight, her hearing, the balance tilts between light and dark.

He moves the blade upwards and Becky inhales sharply, letting it out when he pulls the blade out of her.

“Oh shit,” he murmurs, “oh shit, fuck. Fuck!”

This time when he backs away and runs, Becky doesn’t have the energy to follow him. Instead, she brings her hand up to the lip of the wound in an attempt to stem the flow but a bright red stain is already forming on her shirt and she can feel the blood running free of her stomach.  
  
The blood doesn’t gush in a constant flow, it seems to time itself to the rhythm of the beating in Becky’s chest. At first it runs thick and strong, flowing through her fingers as she presses against the fabric and it feels sickeningly warm as it sweeps over her skin.

When she tries to breathe in it feels like the air is being sucked into the wound, more entering her stomach than going in through her mouth.

She moves her hand from her shirt and all that’s left of the blood that had been flowing thick and scarlet in her veins minutes ago is smeared across her palm and it begins to drip onto the concrete in small splashes – dark crimson, with a distinct metallic smell.

Becky stands there, frozen to the spot, uncertainty pumping through her veins. Something floods her chest, a sense that she has been here before: standing on the edge of a precipice, watching the ground crumble underneath her feet.


	8. in the confusion and the aftermath, you are my signal fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick thank you to everyone who has stuck with this story from the very beginning - it is much appreciated and we must be doing something right. The last thing we'd want is for this story to become redundant! 
> 
> That said, enjoy the chapter :)

_“Hey.” Mick uses the back of his hand to bring Becky’s head upwards, a little too clumsily. “Chin up.”_

_The ring smells like blood and sweat and there’s a cut at the corner of Becky’s left eye that is giving her some problems._

_Becky glares at him. “Jesus, Mick.”_

_“You’re getting frustrated, kid. That can’t happen or you’ll lose. Stick to our plan.”_

_“I am.” Becky stares at Shayna in the other corner, surrounded by her coaching team too, probably telling her the same things that Mick is. Shayna has a large wound on her forehead and Becky can’t help but admire her for continuing. “I’m stickin’ to the plan.”_

_“Remember, don’t reach. Let her do the reaching, let her come to you and when she does, it’s all about timing. You got it?”_

_“Got it.” Becky opens her mouth so that her gum shield can get put back into place, and then she bumps down on Mick’s hands with her gloves. “Timin’.”_

_Shayna comes at her, getting in several good body shots, but Becky is okay with that. If Shayna is going to box hard then so is she. They go at it, pummelling the hell out of each other with body shots. It is fast and furious, fists flying, along with a whole lot of sweat and a lot of blood too._

_Becky’s eye is continuing to close over and Shayna is definitely favouring her weaker left side. Becky grits her teeth as Shayna drives her punch into her right kidney, and in return Becky catches Shayna on the jaw – enough that she connects but not enough that it’s a knockout._

_Shayna hits the mat, using the momentum to roll right back up onto her feet. The red mist has set in and she stalks Becky backwards until Becky can feel the ropes at her back. Shayna puts her arms around Becky and Becky shoves her back as the referee intervenes._

_Stick to the plan, Becky thinks. She lets Shayna come at her again, drawing her in, waiting for the right angle, for the right time. _

_It doesn’t come though._

_Instead she blinks and Shayna connects and Becky knows instantly that something isn’t right. It is like someone has pulled the pin from a grenade and chucked it into her skull._

_And out of the shock of the blow, Becky feels herself counting a mass of terrible sensations: the loss of feeling in her limbs, the tilt of the room as she goes backwards without anything to catch her but the ring rope, the fearful blow of the explosion in her head that accompanies the falling._

_“Becky?” Mick says._

_Her eyes become flooded and all she sees is white. Sometimes light can be so similar to the dark. The light sears into her eyes like a hot camera flash, but after the light and heat has gone all she is left with is the most complete blackness she has ever known. _

_She sees and hears nothing in her new now silent world; there is no noise of the crowd; no noise or vision of Mick or Shayna and everyone else in the ring trying to help her; there is simply nothing._

_“Becky?” Mick says again._

*****

“Becky?” Charlotte’s voice is an urgent whisper in Becky’s ear.

Becky’s pulse is a rapid pounding underneath Charlotte’s two fingers. Charlotte knows that it is from shock. She knows that shock is basically a lack of oxygen to the tissues of the body and that it is usually caused by a fall in blood volume or blood pressure. And she knows that it all stems from the heart speeding up as it struggles to deal with that lack of blood and oxygen, which is why Becky’s pulse rate is through the roof.

“Becky?” Charlotte says again.

This time, Becky’s vision flickers – colour to grey, grey to colour - like an old TV station. When she emerges from the light again, when objects start to form in front of her – cars and Charlotte and the surrounding puddle of blood she is laying in – she is back in the parking lot.

Charlotte gives her a few seconds and then she says her name again. Becky looks like she is awake, like she is hearing what Charlotte is saying, but a frown is slowly forming on her face.

“You,” Becky says, her voice hoarse. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Charlotte croaks, and she’s caught between a sob and a laugh because it is just such a Becky thing to say, “I’m okay.”

Becky swallows, her head rolling to the left, as it is too heavy. And then her eyes begin to close, her mouth flattening and her breathing dulling. She feels Charlotte moving their hands together and pressing it against her stomach harder and Becky lets her do it, she can’t resist even if she wanted to.

It is all so slow.

Everything feels so slow, and both of their hands are sticky with her blood. Charlotte’s hand is bigger than her own, Becky can feel Charlotte’s hand against her own and they are both pressed against the fabric of her shirt – Charlotte’s hand on top of Becky’s to keep the hold tight.

It feels like her heart is too big for her chest and when she breathes in it feels like her lungs are barely filling. Something dark moves in, as if her body is beginning to say enough is enough and she panics. In an almost destructive manner, she begins to shiver and it makes her tremble and ache, and when that starts she tries to move herself forward away from Charlotte.

“Hey,” Charlotte soothes quickly, “just try and breathe with me okay? Can you do that?” Charlotte covers her mouth with her other hand, the knot in her stomach feels like it is twisting around every organ and her eyes and cheeks are tinged with tears. “In and out, okay? Slowly.”

Becky listens to her because Charlotte hears a few stuttered breaths before it starts to even out again. Moving her hand from her mouth she rakes her fingers gently through Becky’s hair that is now damp with sweat.

“I think… it’s bad, Charlie.” Becky takes another breath, the sound rattling in her chest. “It’s… bad.”

“Help is coming, I promise.”

“Yeah?”

Charlotte blinks back the tears and feels something heavy settle in her throat. Her voice is scratchy when she says, “Yeah.”

Charlotte hears it a few moments later. The recognisable scream of the vehicle is distance but it is there all the same.

Help is coming.

*****

Charlotte stands and watches as they take Becky through a set of double swinging doors and into a new corridor.

Charlotte isn’t allowed to go any further.

But she can see them through the circular windows, their hands all over Becky. They keep pressure on the wound; attach a mask to her face and squeeze air into it to get more oxygen into her; shine lights into both of her eyes.

Charlotte wants to follow them. Her hands tremble at her sides and she jams the back of her hand to her mouth to stifle the sob. She feels it coming; the hard assurance of its footsteps, like a threatening whisper. It doesn’t seem to come from any direction, just a sound that encases everything inside a cocoon of hopelessness and hurt.

Charlotte is left, her clothes covered in large drying, splashes of blood.

And her hands. Oh, her hands. Covered and marred in blood that isn’t even her own.

Charlotte’s stomach eventually gives up the game and then she vomits.

-

She is shown to a waiting room a few minutes later and as she sits down the adrenaline spike begins to fade and she’s left with chattering teeth due to a quivering jaw; clenching teeth in an effort to stop shaking; dropping her jaw so she can take in more air in preparation for whatever is to come.

Before long Finn shows up and there are questions from him, hundreds of them it seems. Charlotte can only answer so many because even she doesn’t know all the answers he needs. When he finally takes the sight of her in he gives her his jumper and she puts it on without a second thought. Then he takes her to the bathroom so that she can wash her hands and he stands outside until she is finished.

She doesn’t even bother looking in the small mirror above the sink because she already knows how she must look.

The waiting room is unusually pretty. Everything that can look nice does look nice. There is a sleek floor, comfortable seating and art on the walls that are all natural images in colourful prints. The air has a clean fragrance about it, not sterile, just clean. In the background music plays lowly, just at the right level to give people something else to focus on but not loud enough to be intrusive.

Time passes slowly, or it feels like that anyway, dissolving into itself. The hands of the clock on the wall seem to never move; it is like they are stuck in the same minute of the same hour for the longest time - an uncompromising time loop.

Charlotte’s mind is beginning to fail, like an engine that turns over and over, never kicking into the right action. She can’t formulate a proper thought because when she does it just leads to more pain and there is no way out of that. She glances down at her hands instead and there is still blood underneath her fingernails.

Eventually, the door to the waiting room swings open and before she knows what she is doing, Charlotte is out of her seat and rushing towards the doctor she had seen with Becky earlier. She has to make sure that Becky is okay, she can’t just sit there and let things eat away at her.

“Is she okay? I can’t, that’s my…” Charlotte’s voice breaks. She can’t force the word ‘friend’ between her lips.

It just isn’t enough. It just doesn’t describe it accurately enough.

She feels Finn staring at her and when she turns, his head is bowed slightly, his eyes half hidden beneath the ridge of his brow like he is thinking something over.

Charlotte finds she doesn’t care.

“We had to do emergency surgery,” the doctor says, looking between the pair of them, “she lost a lot of blood through the injury.”

“Well, what does that mean for her?” Finn asks.

“It means she is stable but let’s see where we are this time tomorrow. It’s an important twenty four hours but I am optimistic.”

“Can we see her?” Charlotte asks.

“Of course, but I’d say one at a time right now. I’ll have a nurse come by and escort you.”

When the doctor leaves the waiting room, Charlotte lets out the breath that she hadn’t even realised she had been holding and then she lets out a sigh that stutters in her lungs before she lets it go, feeling some of the tension drain away from her body. 

“I think we can breathe a little easier now,” Finn says. “You alright?”

“Yeah. You should go and see her first, she’s -”

“Nah,” Finn interrupts, his voice unsteady, “You should go. Honestly, you were there with her… Go.”

Finn looks at her, his eyes half closed, as if he has something else he wants to say to her. And, in all honesty, what he is thinking is clear, like it has been inked on his face and Charlotte knows it.

Charlotte can see how Finn and Becky work together. They are similar in ways that she perhaps has never thought about, because she has never needed to. They both have a poise about them, a subtle confidence, a kindness and a strength that is difficult to define and even harder to explain but they are there if you look hard enough.

“Are you sure?”

“Course.” Finn stops, and he seems to consider something. “Just make sure you tell her I’m out here waitin’ for her as usual.”

-

The nurse must sense her hesitating because she gently guides Charlotte through the door to Becky’s room by her elbow. They stand over the threshold of the room but not so far in that they are close to the bed that Becky is in.

The steady echo of the heart monitor is only surpassed by the sound of Charlotte’s own heart beating in her ears. It seems far too loud. Charlotte glances over at the monitor and tries to decipher some of the numbers. Then there’s that smell. It is the smell that you associate with every hospital room: disinfectant spray mixed with a faint air freshener.

“I know this part can be hard but she is comfortable,” the nurse says quietly, “she may move around a little or even open her eyes but don’t be alarmed it’s perfectly normal. You should go and talk to her.”

“Will she hear me?” Charlotte asks, closing her eyes after the question passes her lips.

“Honestly? I don’t know,” the nurse answers, “I like to think that patients can though. Why don’t you try and find out? If you need anything just press the button here.”

When the nurse leaves Charlotte opens her eyes again. She feels tears coming and she tries to blink them away, moving towards the chair that has been pulled up close to Becky’s bed.

It feels surreal.

It feels totally surreal seeing Becky in a hospital bed like this.

The tiny points of pain that Charlotte feels seem like they are glowing, like stars erupting in a bare sky. And one by one they come into focus, each sparkling brightly before burning out, slowly forming a constellation of pain all over her body.

Everything hurts and she has no idea how to make it stop. It hurts when she breathes and it hurts when she thinks and it even hurts when she blinks. It feels like she is drowning and all of this is her fault.

Slowly Charlotte raises her hand, stopping before she lets her fingers ghost over Becky’s. Vein’s run like connected rivers across Becky’s pale skin and Charlotte finds herself tracing them with her index finger before she slips her palm into Becky’s own, the pulse in their wrists pressing together.

There’s a strange lightness to her, a floating feeling almost, like there’s no gravity and Charlotte wants to cry but she doesn’t. She can’t. There are pieces of yourself, so many pieces, that once you give them away you can never get them back again.

Instead she sits there, her hand never leaving Becky’s, cold and still.

She wonders what it would be like if everyone could understand their feelings better whilst being honest with themselves. She wonders if it should be her laying here instead of Becky. She wonders what will happen when Becky wakes up. She wonders what story the media will run with.

Tears blur her vision again as she looks at Becky. Her face pale, her eyes closed, her hair bright and messy on the pillow behind her.

Charlotte let’s her head drop and she squeezes Becky’s hand. “Becks, before I forget, I need to tell you that Finn said he’s out there waiting on you as usual.”

There is no response from Becky; all that Charlotte continues to hear is the steady beeping noise of the heart monitor.

After awhile Charlotte wants to touch more so she does.

The back of her finger reaches up and presses against smooth skin, dragging against Becky’s cheek and shuddering at the corner of Becky’s lips.

Apparently touching someone’s face in this way will catch their attention – regardless of their half conscious state – because Becky’s eyes flutter open, full of concern and curiosity, and Charlotte thinks they are a little bit brilliant.

“Shhh,” Charlotte whispers, “you’re okay.”

It only lasts a second before Becky’s eyes close again, like the nurse said it would, and Charlotte swallows the lump in her throat.

Caring about someone isn’t a complicated thing. It’s not easy either but it’s not overly complicated, or it shouldn’t be anyway.

Becky is made up of fire.

There are some people who are like flames, gentle and friendly. Some are like campfires, all warmth and light for a night but happy to be left afterwards, and then there’s the fires that are strong to look at and they tend to burn powerfully for a long, long time and you’re drawn in to them regardless.

Becky is the latter and Charlotte is close to risking it all and throwing her heart right into the flames.

-  
  
An uncontrolled shiver passes through Charlotte when she slips out of Becky’s room to find Finn. She can’t help it. It is her own shock and she’s well aware of that. She is burning out. She can feel it everywhere, in her muscles, in her bones, thumping behind her eyes.

Even adrenaline can’t carry you through something like this for too long and Charlotte can feel it washing out of her. Becky’s room is a short walk from the waiting room and Charlotte knows it’s not just Finn in there anymore, she can hear numerous voices meshing together in convoluted whispers.

When she passes through the door into the room she recognises the source of the new voices now: Sasha and Bayley. It looks like both of them have been crying and the more she focuses the more she realises that Bayley still is. Just soft sounds. Sniffs.

Sasha spots her first, and unsurprisingly, doesn’t waste any time with pleasantries. “How is she? Is she okay?”

Charlotte wonders, stupidly, what she must look like right now. Becky’s blood still buried under her fingernails, Finn’s jumper hanging over her frame, her eyes red rimmed from crying.

“Yeah,” Charlotte croaks. “She’s pretty much out of it but she’s comfortable. I’m really sorry,” Charlotte adds, feeling like she should say something more.

“Why are you sorry?” Sasha asks quietly, “it wasn’t your fault.”

“I know but I saw it… she was with me.”

Sasha pauses. Charlotte thinks Sasha might cry too, but then she pulls her hair back from her face, and her eyes are darker, more focused. “Becky will be okay, she always is.” Sasha’s eyes narrow. “Are _you_ okay?”

Another shiver passes through Charlotte. “I think so.”

“Go home, Charlotte,” Sasha says, reaching over to put her hand on Charlotte’s arm. “Go get a shower, get some sleep if you can -”

“No, I should stay here. If she wakes up…”

“Then we’ll call you,” Charlotte hears Bayley’s voice filter from where her and Finn are standing together. “If you give us a number to reach you on then we’ll call you.”

Charlotte glances across and sees them staring at her in concern, as well as curiosity. Finn gives her a subtle nod as if he agrees with what Bayley is saying. The atmosphere in the room deflates a little and Charlotte knows that they are trying to look out for her too, as strange as that may sound.

“I’ll take you home,” Finn says kindly. “You’ve had a day of it.”

“And we’ll stay here with Becky,” Sasha adds. “Go home, get yourself sorted.”

So Charlotte essentially does as she is told.

Her and Finn don’t talk much on the drive back to Charlotte’s place, except for the occasional comment about the traffic. It might be a good thing, Charlotte thinks, any more questions about how and what happened to Becky will drive her insane.

On the flip side, the lack of conversation has Charlotte’s mind on overdrive. While she doesn’t want to talk about what happened she can’t help the images that fire through her mind like tiny fireworks, exploding in a blur of agony and blood. The scene plays over and over again and Charlotte feels that horrible dull sensation in her stomach reach a new level.

“Don’t blame yourself, Charlotte,” Finn says when they come to a red light. “You can’t do that. It’s not a road worth goin’ down.”

“You would blame yourself too,” Charlotte replies, with a tired yawn.

“Would Becky blame you though?”

“I…” Charlotte swallows, her throat suddenly dry and then she concedes. “No, she wouldn’t, that’s not the kind of person she is.”

“Nah it isn’t.”

They slip into silence again and Charlotte finds herself scrolling through the endless messages and missed calls on her phone. She types a quick text to Tyler to say that she will be home soon and then puts her phone back into her pocket.

“The vultures are already here,” Finn observes, as they approach Charlotte’s building. Outside the car, reporters are pushing their way forward, their camera flashes exploding every few seconds.

“I think they know things before we do.”

“They do,” Finn confirms, “and they pay well for the information too.”

“Just go in there,” Charlotte points to the private parking area, “they don’t have access.”

“Do you need me to walk you up or is Tyler comin’ down-”

“No. I told him I’d be home soon. I just need a few minutes alone,” Charlotte’s voice sounds quiet when Finn cuts the car off. It feels like fingers are pulling at her windpipe.

“You care about Becky, don’t you?” Finn murmurs as if the idea of it is finally dawning on him.

“Yeah,” Charlotte answers. Of that she is certain. “I know it must be difficult for you to understand. You probably think it’s stupid.”

“Nah,” Finn shakes his head. “You ain’t hurtin’ anybody by carin’.”

“I know.” Charlotte unclips her seat belt and opens the door, jumping out of the car. “Thanks, Finn.”

If Finn is surprised by Charlotte’s less than elegant exit then he doesn’t show it. He is calm and collected as usual as he drives away, giving her a quick backwards wave.

-

The elevator ride passes by in a blur and when she enters the apartment it is quiet. The trauma of today still clings to her and she is restless, her body physically tired but her mind refusing to shut off. She peels off Finn’s jumper, discarding it onto the kitchen island before she hears Tyler padding through the hallway from the bedroom.

“Charlotte,” Tyler says gently, “how is she? How are you?”

She feels a pulse in her chest, like a bubble bursting and then she finally cries.

Tyler doesn’t say anything, instead he takes her hand and leads her through to the bedroom, and when Charlotte climbs into the bed she feels herself shivering again. The tears run hot and she doesn’t remember much more after Tyler clambers in beside her.

*****

The first time she’s aware of herself, Becky chooses not to open her eyes for awhile, as if she is fully in control of that decision instead of it being a hazy half-drugged decision. For one, she knows it’s too bright out there, she can see the yellow pressing in at her eyelids. Lights, she thinks. Secondly, she can hear voices, and she’s curious to hear what they are saying.

It’s difficult though. The voices – several of them - all wrap around each other like a large vine on a tree and then they fade into nothing. It is like that sensation before you wake up where you are aware that things are happening around you but you’re not actually sure what is going on.

Becky’s head starts to hurt and it feels physically impossible to open her eyes now, so she doesn’t. She just jumps back into the welcome embrace of the darkness.

-

The second time she rallies, or tries to, Becky hears things more clearly. Only this time the noises don’t come from people talking. It’s the sound of rain against a window and the beeping of machines nearby. Becky always tries to pay attention to sounds around her, it’s sometimes so necessary for her work.

There is a warm weight on her chest and when she breathes in through her nose, her lungs buttery soft, the air is stuffy and thick, with an undertone of bleach or something similar.

In the distance Becky thinks she hears something over a speaker but it doesn’t sound like it is meant for her. In fact, it doesn’t sound like anything at all. It’s just a low foggy murmur of noise.

Someone reaches for her hand and squeezes, and Becky feels it so she squeezes back before she slips back under without really trying to open her eyes again.

-

It’s the pain that rouses her the third time. A shooting pain that arrows right up her right hand side. It feels like the pain has started to spread out from the source, across her skin, under it, into her muscles and bones. She huffs out in pain, a wet sort of gurgling noise.

“Hey, hey,” a voice tries to console her. “Becky, I need you to relax for me, okay?”

And then Becky’s eyes open fully.

“Who are you?” Becky rasps.

A smile appears on the woman’s face. “I’m your nurse, looks like good timing to me.” She scribbles a few things down on a clipboard before setting it back down. “I need to let the doctor know you’re awake but if you can just sit tight for me we’ll get you sorted for the pain.”

The pain. Becky finds her eyes automatically travelling downwards to where it’s coming from but all she can see is a white bed sheet. She lifts her hand up and sees that an IV line has been taped there with a maze of clear tubes snaking around.

“I’m Alex,” the nurse says, holding a plastic cup of water up to Becky’s lips and letting Becky take a sip. “I’ll just go and get your doctor, how does that sound?”

Becky nods before the nurse leaves the room. Her eyes feel heavy and full of sleep, and beside the pain her whole body feels uncomfortably itchy and lead like.

She starts drifting again without any control over it.

“Becky, can you hear me?” another woman asks, her voice soft and soothing.

Becky opens her eyes without any sort of rush. It happens easier this time though. She can feel the drip she is on seeping into her vein, the cold bright burn of it in her blood.

“Becky, I’m Dr. Neilson,” the woman steps closer, there’s a clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other. Her hair is scraped back and she is dressed in a bottle green suit, she looks every inch the doctor. “Can you tell me why you’re here?”

“Stabbed.”

“That’s right, do you remember where?”

_Charlotte. _Panic twists through her stomach and into her throat and she tries, pathetically, to sit up. “The stadium. Charlotte, is she alright?”

“Yes, Charlotte is fine,” the doctor says with a reassuring smile. “She’s been here quite a lot.”

“Has she?”

“Yeah. She’s gone with your friends to get some lunch but they should be back soon. Becky, can you tell me what happened to you?”

Becky hits a roadblock of sorts, or maybe it’s just a screen that reaches from the ground to the sky in her mind. She’s aware of what happened to her but she can’t remember all the finer details right now. She remembers the man’s face though and it sends a cold finger of fear down her spine and her heart starts to quicken, and it reflects in the machine next to her.

“No,” Becky lies. “I can just remember the knife."

“Can you remember when this happened?”

“Yesterday?” Becky answers after a moment.

The doctor makes a few quick notes on Becky’s chart before lifting a penlight from her jacket pocket. She flashes it in Becky’s eyes, right and then left, up and then down, a few quick zips of light to test her.

“Becky, we had to operate on you two days ago. You lost a lot of blood and we had to go in and tidy things up.”

“Do I need anythin’ else done? When can I go home?”

“No, you don’t need any further surgery, that went really well,” Dr. Neilson announces. “You’ll be kept in for observation though, so I wouldn’t get excited about going home just yet. I’m happy to increase your pain meds right now if you’re uncomfortable.”

“Alright.” Becky nods, her eyes fluttering shut. She feels a tug at her hand and she supposes that the pain medication will be in her system before long.

-

The same nurse as before is checking Becky over when she opens her eyes again. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”

Becky blinks lazily. It is getting dark outside and she vaguely remembers someone mentioning lunch earlier so she thinks that she has lost a whole afternoon. The room looks darker too as she blinks and she realises that the lights have been dimmed to the lowest possible setting.

“Time’s it?”

“It’s just after nine,” the nurse says. “If you’re hungry or thirsty I can get you something? You’ve been out for hours.”

“Nah, I’m fine.” Becky is looking at the figure on the seat over the nurse’s shoulder.

The nurse steps away from Becky and writes something down on a fresh chart page before she glances over her shoulder at Charlotte. “She’s been here for hours too,” she whispers. “Her and your friends have been doing a rota. I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything just press on this button and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

When Becky hears the door click shut she stares at the ceiling and then she moves herself so that she is sitting up and facing Charlotte more, ignoring the gnawing pain in her side.

The low light is dull but not enough that it diminishes the natural features of Charlotte’s face, peaceful with sleep. Her legs are crossed and her arms are folded across her middle and her head is resting back against the chair.

Becky doesn’t notice when Charlotte opens her eyes. She just realises that she’s blinking at Charlotte and Charlotte is blinking back at her. Nothing about Charlotte changes though, her body just stays as it has been, but her eyes are bright and shiny.

“Becky, you’re awake.”

“Looks like it.”

Charlotte smiles at her before dragging her seat closer to Becky’s bed. She leans over and takes Becky’s hand into her own, running her thumb gently over the back of Becky’s knuckles.

“Are you in any pain? Can I get you something?”

“Nah, I’m alright. Y’know me.”

The pain is clear on Becky’s face but so is her tired smile.

Charlotte likes having someone who radiates strength like Becky does because it means that she can borrow some of that strength when she is running low on her own.

“_Becky.”_

_“Charlotte.”_

“It was insane,” Charlotte says quietly after a few moments of nothing, “doing what you did -”

“It wasn’t insane, it’s my job,” Becky answers, turning her head to the side. “I wanted to diffuse the situation an’ I took a calculated risk.”

“Becks, you can’t take risks -”

“Charlotte,” Becky interrupts, closing her eyes when Charlotte stares intently at her. “I’ve been trained about what kinda risks I can and can’t take. It’s what you’re payin’ me for.”

She tries to move her hand out of Charlotte’s but Charlotte doesn’t let her go. Instead she just starts running her thumb over Becky’s fingers again, flicking her eyes up to meet Becky’s own.

“You scared the shit out of me.”

“I’m sorry.” Becky means it. “How are you still here?”

“We’ve been taking turns,” Charlotte answers simply. “Sasha was here all afternoon, she’s going to be pissed that you decided to wake up while I was here.”

It’s a simple statement that shouldn’t really mean anything but Becky wonders if there’s some double meaning behind it. When she looks back up at Charlotte’s face she can tell that Charlotte knows the implications of her words too but she doesn’t blink and Becky swallows.

Sometimes you just have to face it: you meet someone and there’s a genuine meeting of your minds, and that’s serious shit. You can go years, maybe even a lifetime, without meeting someone who matches you like that.

There’s a curious place between knowing and not knowing. A place where the words you want to say but can’t and the things you feel but can’t express can just live in the back of your head rent free without weighing down your heart too much.

But then again, sometimes you don’t need to say anything for things to be known.

Eventually, their conversation peters out and Charlotte watches as Becky’s breathing becomes slow and shallow, her chest rising and falling every time she draws in a breath and it is comforting for Charlotte to watch because Becky is okay.

She leans over and hovers slightly, unsure if what she is about to do is the right thing for either of them. But Charlotte knows that there is never a completely right thing to do in any circumstance. All you can do is go with what you believe in, accept any consequences that come your way if you fuck it up and make the best out of whatever happens in the situation.

So she leans lower and presses her lips against Becky’s forehead, and hopes that Becky is too far gone to notice.

*****

The news reports on the man who stabbed Becky being arrested, or rather, handing himself in. She watches the news report switch to images of herself and the clamp across Charlotte’s chest grows tighter, and she has to pretend to be calm and in control. 

It’s almost five in the evening and she has had meetings all day. She has several missed calls and texts from Tyler and various others but she can’t be bothered dealing with that right now.

After she is escorted out of the building by Sheamus, Charlotte decides against going straight home. Instead she picks up a couple of toasted sandwiches and bottles of water before heading for the hospital.

The hospital is quiet and Charlotte moves through it freely. Her body is beginning to tire and she can feel a familiar ache in her bones. It’s an all too familiar feeling these days but she pushes it to the back of her mind as she reaches the door of Becky’s room.

Under the bright hospital lights, Becky’s eyes are red, and Charlotte wonders if Becky has been crying. Becky catches her looking, and flashes her a small smile. It is smart and inviting, and could never be made by someone who has just been crying, but there it is, Charlotte thinks. Becky has clearly had plenty of practice hiding herself.

“I brought gifts?”

Becky huffs out a breath and then leans out to accept the sandwich and the water. “Thanks.”

“How are you feeling?”

Becky shrugs. “Alright, I guess.”

“Are you sure?”

“No,” Becky says as she unwraps the sandwich and takes a bite. “Don’t think anyone would like being stuck in here like an invalid, do you?”

There’s an edge to her voice that, Becky being Becky, probably doesn’t realise is even there. Charlotte chooses to let it slide, instead she focuses on taking a few bites of her own sandwich and allowing Becky to finish her own, which she does with enthusiasm.

“Becky, if you’re struggling… or you need a day off from trying then I’ll be here where you can find me.”

Becky closes her eyes and leans her head back on the pillow. The frustration is a silent hunter, looming over her and ready to strike when she least expects it. When she opens her eyes again they take on a sheen of water and tension builds behind them.

She has only been awake properly for a couple of days but Becky can feel her mood becoming darker with every passing hour. And it is stupid because she is getting better, her injuries are healing and everything is functioning as it should.

“I hate this feelin’ of bein’ locked in, y’know?”

Charlotte hates the lost expression that flits across Becky’s face, and she wants to wipe away the tears and soothe the pain but she has absolutely no idea how she should go about that or if she even should.

“It’s like bein’ a kid again,” Becky says quietly, “I have to get help to go to the bathroom or to get a shower, I can’t just get in and out of bed when I want in case stitches pop out so I have to buzz for a nurse-”

“Becky, it’s not like -”

“Charlotte, don’t try and tell me how to feel about this.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Charlotte frowns. “I don’t know how you’re feeling right now but I promise you, they are just trying to look out for you so that you heal properly.”

Sometimes Charlotte notices the occasions when Becky’s mind goes for a wander, sorting through old memories or thinking about possible new ones. A small crease forms between her brows and her eyes cloud over like they are trying to navigate whatever storm she is brewing for herself.

Charlotte has long since figured that it is better to let Becky work this kind of thing out for herself, so she lets Becky decide where she wants to go with it and what direction she wants to steer the conversation in.

“It’s just…” Becky blows out her cheeks. “This just reminds me of the last time I was in this position. Took me a long time to get back from that.”

“You mean the boxing accident?”

Becky nods.

“But you did come back from it, Becky. You’ll come back from this too. I know you will.”

Becky doesn’t seem to share Charlotte’s opinion. She bites her lip and she stares at Charlotte. “Can I show you somethin’?”

“Of course you can.”

Becky takes Charlotte’s hand, bends her head down and then lifts Charlotte’s hand to where the raised section of skin is, and it still feels rough when Becky touches it herself.

“That’s where it starts,” Becky says, moving Charlotte’s fingers gently in her hair, just above her ear. “It follows right the way round. That's why I can't box again.”

Charlotte pulls her hand away and clears her throat. Becky sweeps her hair back and lifts her head, eyes blinking in Charlotte’s direction. “It’s hideous. Every time I’m in a hospital I leave in a worse state.”

“It is not hideous, Becky.”

“Forget it.” Becky wants this conversation to be over. She has no idea why she even started it in the first place.

“I can’t really forget it,” Charlotte says, not giving up so easily. “I don’t like hearing you talk about yourself like that. That scar doesn’t define you, Becky, and neither will any new one.”

Despite the threatening lump in Becky’s throat, a small, comfortable silence settles in the air around them. Charlotte leans forward with a soft smile on her face and lays a warm hand on Becky’s own, rubbing small circles with her fingers, and Becky reacts in two opposing way, as if her brain doesn’t know what side it should take; one side thinks that this is Charlotte just being friendly in an attempt to soothe her, but the other side acknowledges the touch like it carries an electric current, like a spark that wants its final connection.

You maybe can’t change your blood, but you can change what you bleed for and who you bleed for.

And Becky realises that Charlotte isn’t the worst person that she could bleed for.

-

It’s late when Charlotte gets home.

It’s also quiet in the apartment and although she can’t hear anything, Charlotte knows that Tyler is home. She can sense it in that way where you just know that you aren’t alone.

She’s proven right less than a minute later.

“Where the hell have you been?” Tyler asks, a glass in his hand. He stays silent waiting on her to reply, eyes fixed on Charlotte, but his thoughts are rooted in his eyes: he is angry at her.

“I was at the hospital.”

Tyler laughs, fingers tapping out a rhythm on the glass. There’s a flicker of irritation and after a long breath, he says, “of course you were. Should have known.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means she’s supposed to be _your_ bodyguard, not the other way around.”

“She got hurt because of me!” Charlotte shouts back. “Have you forgotten that?”

“How could anyone possibly forget that,” Tyler sighs, “it’s all you’ve talked about since it happened.” 

“You’re being ridiculous.”

Tyler snorts but there’s no comment.

“Are you… are you jealous of Becky? Because if you are that’s fucking-”

“Did it even occur to you,” Tyler asks her, “to answer a text or call from me today? To let me know that everything was okay?”

Charlotte just looks at him and pushes down her annoyance.

“What’s the matter, Charlotte? Did I hit a nerve?”

“What’s the matter?” Charlotte asks, aghast. “You’re jealous of someone for ending up in the hospital because they got stabbed because of _me_. He was after _me!_”

“That’s her job. You’ve spent more time at that fucking hospital in the last few days than you have here.”

“She’s… my friend, Tyler. What do you want me to do?”

He stands there, staring at her, the muscles in his face taut, his fingers playing with the glass before he brings it up to his mouth and swallows the liquid inside it in one go.

A smile appears on Tyler’s face, but there’s no humour in it. He has a far off look in his eyes, like a thought has come to him, and while he is mulling it over, everything else has become frozen in time. But then the smile finally goes and his eyes stare back at Charlotte.

“Your friend. Right. You spend more time with your so-called friend than you do with me and that was before she got herself hurt.”

“She didn’t get herself hurt. Some maniac stabbed her because he wanted to meet me!”

Charlotte feels a bristle of unease. She can’t place the feeling to start with, can’t understand where it has come from but the longer Tyler stares at her the more the feeling lingers.

“You don’t need to babysit her, Charlotte. She isn’t our problem.”

The feeling crawls its way through Charlotte’s system, cool in her veins, blooming beneath her ribs, her heart getting faster, as if, somehow, her body is confirming what Charlotte already knows.

“I’m not babysitting her,” Charlotte repeats. “You’re being fucking ridiculous!”

“I’m taking the spare room tonight.”

This time Charlotte says nothing, not wanting this conversation to spiral any further out of control but her lack of reply only seems to anger Tyler even more.

“I said I’m taking the spare room tonight.”

Charlotte feels the irritation trembling through her chest, and the heat of it is like a fog in her head. “I heard you the first time. And let me make this clear, Becky isn’t any problem.” 

Tyler sits his glass on the kitchen island before he turns her back on her and walks down the hallway towards the spare bedroom and Charlotte finds herself letting him. 

-  
  
Charlotte steps into the shower, toes flinching as they touch the cold tiled floor. She turns the handle, silver and metallic, releasing the water from overhead. She lets it run for a few moments before she leans into the steaming water, letting it run over her hair and down her back before she picks up the soap.

The sensation of the water calms her; even if her mind is in shreds. She has a scrape on her elbow from where she was knocked over the other day and there’s a bruise near her hip bone too. She runs her thumb over it but her hand drifts further upwards of its own accord to under her ribcage.

Her eyes fall closed and images in her mind replay over and over.

She sees it all happening again.

She sees the man lurching forward towards Becky. She sees the way Becky’s back goes rigid with the impact. She sees his face scrunch in shock at what he has done. She sees him say something to Becky before he backs up and takes off.

She sees it all.

The feeling of dread is like ice in her stomach and, even in this heat, it doesn’t melt. She can’t shift it at all. She feels the spasms of guilt in her chest and in her head as tears flash in her eyes.

It isn’t your fault, she tells herself. Once and then twice and then three times.

She wonders what Tyler is doing in the room across the hall. Their argument loiters at the back of her mind and it is just something else that she will have to deal with in the morning.

The stress of the last week spreads through Charlotte like ink spilling onto new paper and she takes a deep, ragged breath before leaning her head further back under the water. Water rushes in her ears and she stays like that until a tiny twinge of panic tugs at her lungs due to the lack of oxygen.

Her thoughts of Tyler only last a few minutes before her mind wanders back to Becky and Charlotte feels her heart swell up with something heavy.

Maybe feelings are like something with teeth. They sink in and take hold and they don’t let go. Maybe feelings hurt more than a knife to the skin or a few broken bones or anything that bleeds and heals over again. Maybe feelings don’t break you clean. Maybe feelings are like a bone that doesn’t reset right or a cut that just doesn’t seem to close.

Charlotte goes to bed soon after, drained, worn down and she lies under the duvet, looking out at the shadows of the corners of the bedroom. Moonlight has escaped in through the giant window resulting in a gentle glow across the light ceiling.

She can feel her body becoming warmer but it isn’t the heat in the apartment or the bed that is doing it, it is what is filling her head: Becky, where she is and everything that has happened between them.

And it is that moment.

It is that moment where Charlotte lays back in bed with her eyes closed tightly against the onslaught of the day that she realises that the person she wants the most right now is Becky.

*****

The halls of the hospital are quiet when Charlotte arrives. There is a rhythm to it. Charlotte is amazed at how easily she has adjusted to it. The sound of curtain rings sliding on metal rods, machines beeping steadily, distant TV chatter, and the sound of shoes on the floor. People move around at the same pace. It is like its own little ecosystem.

After quickly replying to a few emails she slips her phone into her purse before she rounds the corner towards Becky’s room. She finds Sasha outside Becky’s door, pulling her jacket over her shoulders, her attention directed downwards at the zip. When she lifts her head she stares at Charlotte and Charlotte has the feeling that whatever conversation is coming between them isn’t a good one.

“I wasn’t expecting you here today, Charlotte. Didn’t you work?” Sasha’s voice sounds rough and loud in the quiet of the hallway as she walks towards Charlotte.

“Yeah, but I came straight over.”

“Can I have a word with you? Alone?” Sasha asks, a little more firmly. “Cafeteria?”

Charlotte clears her throat and glances over Sasha’s shoulder at Becky’s door. She should say no, she’s certain of it. Instead she finds herself saying, “Okay, sure.”

A few minutes later Charlotte squints up at the harsh glare of the cheap lights illuminating the dreary hospital cafeteria. A bell rings against the glass as her and Sasha trudge inside.

The woman behind the counter, who is obviously waiting to clock off her shift, is cleaning a coffee machine. The place itself is made up of a handful of covered tables, plastic chairs and a few rickety wooden stools along the bar at the window. Charlotte doesn’t think people sit there for the view.

There’s a few other people scattered around but no one pays attention to them. Charlotte drops into one of the plastic seats as Sasha takes the one straight across from her.

“So?” Charlotte asks, “what do you need to talk to me about?”

“You know Becky can be alone, right? You don’t have to be here every day.”

Charlotte shrugs. “I’m just trying to be there for my friend.”

“And so am I,” Sasha argues, “but I’m not here every waking hour. I have a job and a girlfriend to attend to.”

Charlotte smiles, nervous and twitchy. “I’m sorry, what exactly are you getting at here?”

“What are you really doing here, Charlotte?”

“I just told you, I-”

“Right, you’re here for your friend,” Sasha says, “you’ve already said that. But we both know that’s not what I’m getting at so lets not pretend. I’m not stupid and neither are you.”

“Sasha,” Charlotte murmurs. “It’s not-”

“Let me be clear, what are your intentions with Becky? And please spare me the bullshit, okay.”

Charlotte says, “I don’t know what you think, but-”

Sasha ignores her. “So do you go around kissing all of your friends or? That’s right, I know everything. Becky has told me all about it.”

Charlotte hesitates, and then reaches her hands out so that they are pressed against the edge of the table. She’s more nervous than she should be. She contorts her lips into an awkward smile but her cheeks are not so compromising. “With all due respect, Sasha, I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

Sasha smirks, just a small pouting of her lips, a narrowing of her eyes and a tilt of her head. It is so subtle and it’s infuriating for Charlotte to watch it. Then the noise that comes from Sasha is like a cross between a snort and a sarcastic laugh, it’s so fake that Charlotte has to look away and focus on something else.

“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to? It’s none of my business? Becky’s my best friend,” Sasha says tightly, “she is my business. I’m not gonna stand around and let you continue to confuse her and play with her emotions.”

“Sasha, it’s not my-”

“I’m not finished. You need to sort your shit out. I don’t care what that looks like and I don’t care what that means.”

“Don’t you think I’m trying to do that?” Charlotte fires back, all decorum lost. There’s a strange light in her eyes that Sasha doesn’t recognise but she knows that it’s serious. They sit on even ground, eye to eye, and Charlotte doesn’t back down and Sasha is kind of impressed. “Do you think this has been easy for me? Because it hasn’t been!”

“I have no idea.”

“Well it hasn’t been, so get the hell off my back.”

“You know Becky has feelings for you,” Sasha continues, “because she’s told me and we’ve had a lot of conversations about you. And I know you have feelings for her too.”

“Sasha, it’s… complicated.”

“Yeah, I imagine it is,” Sasha concedes, “but everything worthwhile usually is complicated.”

“I didn’t mean for it to end up like this,” Charlotte says, “this, whatever it is between me and Becky, wasn’t in any plan.”

“It never is, but I think,” Sasha says softly, “that sometimes people find others even when it’s the last place they’d ever imagine to look. But, Charlotte, I mean it. Sort your shit out or I’ll sort it for you.”

Sasha scrapes her chair backwards on the floor and leaves without another word and Charlotte is left to her own thoughts. She sits for a few minutes before she gets up and follows Sasha’s path.

She can see the red blinking exit sign above the large front door of the hospital some way down the hall. She also knows that if she takes a left she will be in Becky’s room in a matter of minutes.

You see, the universe comes together to give you the truth. It also tends to light up the path that you should probably take but only if you have the courage to follow the signs that you’re given.

Charlotte’s feet move of their own accord until she is pushing against the door that she is sure that she wants to open.

“I was just thinkin’ about you,” Becky says, “an’ here you are.”

Charlotte smiles before she clicks the door shut. “Must be your lucky day then.”

*****

Tyler has just decided to close his eyes for only a second on the couch when his phone rings. If he hadn’t been so disorientated, he would have let it go straight to voicemail. But he’s had half a bottle of scotch and isn’t thinking straight.

He pulls his phone to his face, glancing at the screen before he answers it with something that sounds like “Hello.”

“Party for one over there?”

“Becky,” Tyler says immediately, “that’s the weak spot.”

“The bodyguard?” Paige asks, “Charlotte and the bodyguard?”

Tyler blinks, trying to clear his head. “Yeah. She’s hiding something about them. She spends more time at that fucking hospital than she does here. I’m in the spare bedroom these days.”

The line is silent.

“How interesting,” Paige says eventually, feeling a faint ripple of delight, “at least this is something we can use.”

“I saw them,” Tyler mutters, “at that Gala and now this. Becky is the weak spot.”

“Doubt even Charlotte could survive another scandal. Especially a personal one like that.”

Tyler stirs and opens his eyes fully. “I doubt she could either.” 

*****

Becky’s head is beginning to hurt.

“Stop pacing around,” Charlotte says. “It won’t help.”

“Where the hell is the doctor?” Becky asks, “they told me I’d be discharged by now.” Becky is already dressed and her bag is already packed, all she needs is the final signal from the doctor and then she can go home – finally. “It’s almost starting to get dark out there.”

It has been a long week and Becky is still in some discomfort but nothing that she can’t manage and medicate at home. She has been waiting for over an hour and still no one has come to see her to say that she can go. It’s annoying.

She wants to go home to get a shower on her own; to sleep in her own bed; to make her own coffee; to sit at the window and watch the world go by on her own.

Just as Becky is about to speak again, the door creaks open.

“You ready?” Alex asks, manoeuvring through the door. “You’re good to go. All cleared.”

“What’s that for?” Becky asks, staring down at the wheelchair.

“It’s hospital policy,” Alex explains. “I kind of thought this would go down like a lead balloon.”

“I’m not sitting-”

Charlotte taps on Becky’s shoulder, tilting her head when Becky turns around. “It’s just to the car. Even you can manage that.”

It niggles at Becky. She is more than capable of walking down to the car by herself, never mind with Charlotte _and_ another aide. She wants to argue back, she can feel the words scratching at the back of her throat, but this time she refuses to take the bait in fear of being told she can’t leave at all.

“Fine but I ain’t happy about it.”

“We know,” Charlotte answers for her and Alex. “Sit. You got everything?”

“Yeah. It was good meetin’ you, Alex, but lets not do this again,” Becky says.

“Take care, the pair of you,” Alex answers before she disappears out of view.

And if Becky laughs when Charlotte tells her to close her eyes and then runs a little bit down the hallway with the wheelchair, well, can you blame her?

-

Becky inhales and then exhales. She tries to adjust the seat belt again so that it isn’t pressing directly onto the bandage that’s attached to her skin but it doesn’t seem to be successful. She breathes in again and remembers something that Mick told her years ago: it is all about breathing through an uncomfortable situation.

The pain spikes her heart rate and the resulting adrenaline charges through her. She can almost hear it in her ears, a dull whirring sound like a burnt out fan.

“You okay over there?”

“This seat belt is pressin’ right against me,” Becky answers, forcing calm into her expression, “it’s not ideal.”

“We’re nearly there.”

“I know. How’s Sheamus been with you?” Becky asks.

“He’s…” Charlotte tries to find the right words. “He’s different. He’s very regimental. A bit like you but ten times worse. Did he grow up with you and Finn?”

“Nah,” Becky says, flashing Charlotte a smile. “I’ve known him for years though. He’s a good choice for you, even if he isn’t as good as me.”

“You’re unbelievable at times, Becks.”

“No denial from you though.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

-

By the time Charlotte pulls up outside Becky’s place another cloudy night is settling in. The rolling grey becomes as invisible as the stars it hides but the air feels sticky. The low sky makes for claustrophobic traction.

Charlotte opens Becky’s door for her, allowing Becky to swing her legs out of the car. “You need any help?”

“Nah.” Becky shifts herself up onto her feet, still a little wobbly. Charlotte can see that it takes much more effort than Becky will ever admit. “I got it.”

Charlotte picks up Becky’s hospital bag from the backseat before they step into a slow walk towards the apartment building. Becky doesn’t say anything and for some reason Charlotte feels weird nervous energy radiating from Becky.

Charlotte tries not to let her face fall when Becky opens the door to her apartment. It’s not what Charlotte is expecting. The place is nice without feeling like a home. There isn’t much personality to it at all. It feels like everything has its own place and space and that includes Becky herself.

“I don’t spend a lot of time here,” Becky states, like she needs to give Charlotte some sort of justification.

Charlotte’s eyes wander around the sparsely decorated area and then back to Becky. “You don’t need to explain to me.”

“People always have that look though,” Becky murmurs. “I think everyone expects me to have a place full of stuff but it isn’t like that. Do you want coffee or somethin’?”

Charlotte puts Becky’s bag onto the kitchen counter and then lets her hands drop to her side. “Becky.” Charlotte peels her jacket off and folds it so that it can sit next to Becky’s bag. “Let’s get you settled and then I’ll get us coffee.”

Becky sinks down into the couch and yawns. She is tired as hell, it almost feels like her muscles are giving in to gravity. What she wants is to be able to sleep tonight in her own bed, warm and safe. She moves one of the sofa’s cushions to her back but it only makes her position worse.

“Let me help you with that.” Charlotte pulls the cushion gently away from Becky’s back before she helps Becky lean forward. Then she places it low at the base of Becky’s spine so that it gives her support when she leans back onto it. “How about that?”

Becky tests it out for a few seconds and then her mouth breaks into a tired smile. “Better. Can you get me the painkillers that are in my bag?”

Drowsy is what the label warns Becky to expect when Charlotte hands her the painkillers and a glass of water. Minutes after the pill has slid down her throat Becky feels her focus diminish. Drowsy indeed.

-

“Tired?” Charlotte smiles at Becky, who almost jolts awake with a start and stares at her.

“How long was I out for?” Becky mutters, rubbing at her eyes.

“About an hour and a half,” Charlotte answers, “I ended up watching this trash movie.”

It occurs to Becky, rather slowly in her hazy state, that she has been sleeping against Charlotte’s shoulder. She can feel the strain in her neck from leaning to her left slightly and their faces are now only inches apart. It’s too close. 

“But I am going to let you rest now. Are you okay?”

“I’m good.”

Becky looks at her. Charlotte leans into her a little, her perfume coming with it. The fingers of her hand brushes against Becky’s leg and her eyes are dark and serious.

“If you need anything tonight, you call me. Okay?”

“I will.”

Charlotte sighs. “We both know that you won’t but I want you to know the offer is there anyway.”

Becky sees her to the door, much to Charlotte’s serious protests. It isn’t awkward as such but at the same time it kind of is. They are both aware that everything is still changing between them.

“Thanks,” Becky says suddenly. “Thanks for everythin’ this week.”

“You’d do the same for me.”

A flash of something hot and dark goes through Becky and she can’t help but step forward until she is in Charlotte’s space. The next thing she knows, she is putting her arms around Charlotte’s shoulders and pulling her in tight.

All the rational thoughts that filter through Becky’s head are interrupted by the idea that she is content to be here, in Charlotte’s arms. That she is content to be breathing in Charlotte’s scent. That the quiet sigh that Charlotte lets out close to her ear is much more than a simple exhale of breath.

Becky will never be able to explain what it was that made her do it. Whether it was the drowsy effect of the painkillers; or the need to have some real human contact after a week in a hospital bed; or whether she just wanted to.

They stand like that until Charlotte pulls back every so slightly, releasing the pressure of her body against Becky’s. Becky shouldn’t. She really shouldn’t but she does, she turns her head so that her cheek brushes against Charlotte’s own.

“Thank you,” Becky whispers.

“What’s going on with us, Becks?” Charlotte’s question is quiet.

“Think about it,” Becky says, “couple weeks ago I was dancin’ with you, and after that I was kissin’ you. An’ then you take care of me in and out of the hospital. You know what’s goin’ on with us.” 

Sometimes, Charlotte realises, the end of a chapter in your life doesn’t announce itself with a party or with fireworks or with anything really. Sometimes it just bleeds in, like the smell of coffee in the morning or the way the air changes when autumn gives way to winter, or the way Becky’s fingers wrap around her wrist in a silent plea.

“I know I should go but…” Charlotte wavers, “I don’t know if I want to.”

“Then don’t,” Becky says quietly, pressing her head into Charlotte’s collarbone. “Just stay.”

Charlotte does stay.


	9. i came here with a load, and it feels so much lighter, now i met you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter basically picks up from where the previous one ended. Thanks for all the positivity on this story, it really is so much appreciated!
> 
> Another long chapter but we hope you enjoy it anyway :)
> 
> (P.s if anyone knows the game the movie in this chapter is based on then we can probably be friends)

They are both awake and aware of it.

It is still dark in Becky’s bedroom despite the street lights outside the window trying to intrude on them. They watch each other silently. There’s a gaping void in the bed, something that feels slightly out of place, but Charlotte doesn’t have it in her to bring it up and apparently Becky doesn’t either.

It feels like they are hurtling towards something at an alarming pace, like they have been standing on the edge and now that they have been given that push there is no way to stop them going flying.

And Charlotte is afraid. 

She is beginning to understand that after months of self control, the pressure, the volcano that is restless inside of her is showing signs that it is about to erupt, and the moment that it happens, she knows she will have no way of controlling her feelings anymore.

“Becky?” Charlotte asks, her voice barely anything in the quiet of the room. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Are you?”

“I think so,” Charlotte answers, letting out a soft sigh. “I just want to know you’re okay.”

Becky frowns. “Well, I’m right here an’ I’m okay. Sleepy though.”

Charlotte’s heart does that funny double beat thing at Becky’s admission, but she smiles into the darkness anyway, reaching a cautious hand over to cover Becky’s own between them on the mattress. “Then sleep.”

-

Charlotte blinks awake just before three in the morning. Everything is blurry and for a second she doesn’t know how she got into this bed, or how she got into these clothes or when she even fell asleep. 

Then, everything is processed quickly and efficiently in her mind.

The relief she feels when she sees Becky next to her, sleeping soundly and comfortably, is palpable. Becky has her back towards Charlotte and she is on her left side, they have moved closer to each other but not enough that they are touching.

Charlotte takes advantage of Becky’s sleeping state to watch her. Charlotte follows the outline of Becky in the dark with her eyes for a couple of moments, just long enough for that familiar feeling to clinch her body, like a warm embrace from someone who matters. Like a whisper that runs through your veins like a current, washing everything dark inside away and taking you to a place in your mind where only sunshine exists.

She should be at home. 

She should be in her own bed. 

She shouldn’t be doing this.

But then Charlotte feels a frisson of warmth glow in her stomach when Becky rolls over and buries her face into the pillow near Charlotte’s shoulder but she doesn’t push it away, instead Charlotte embraces it.

Becky’s eyes flutter open eventually, catching Charlotte watching her. Charlotte thinks she should be embarrassed, and she knows somewhere that she is, but she can’t bring herself to take too much issue with it right now.

Becky’s face is free of its usual alertness, she is completely relaxed and there is no trace of her usual attitude. Her hair is messy, splayed across the pillow, eyes even darker than usual in the room.

She looks untroubled by anything, fragile even.

And Charlotte really isn’t prepared for it because waking up next to Becky is intense, despite the fact that they aren’t even touching. The storm that’s been churning away inside of her is beginning to settle into a calm because she knows. Charlotte knows that she wants more of this feeling, regardless of what that means for her.

She knows what she is going to have to do.

“Go back to sleep,” Charlotte hushes.

Becky does.

-

The arc of the sun has already broken through the window when Becky wakes up, the sky outside is an incredible prism of orange and yellow and blue.

Becky expects the morning light to do to Charlotte what it does to everyone else: to highlight the soft blemishes and imperfections on her skin, to age and sharpen her features. Instead, in the wash of the warm light, Charlotte’s face takes on the appearance of an old photograph, classy and beautiful. The light brings Charlotte’s skin into focus, not yet animated with the warmth of who she is because she is still asleep.

The more Becky watches the more she realises that happiness isn’t really dramatic but it is wholesome. It can be a sneaky thing and sometimes you don’t really notice it to begin with. It is like a butterfly that sneaks in your window during a clear summer’s day. It gives you the little things at first; you smile more and you laugh more, and you can breathe a little bit easier.

But then it comes for the bigger stuff.

The next thing you know your stomach is filled with those butterflies and your heart thuds that bit louder in your chest, and everything in your life seems possible. Your life is more colourful and everything is bright and everything is beautiful.

It’s an unusual scenario but Becky finds herself smiling when she rolls quietly out of bed.

-

When Charlotte wakes, the first thing she notices is that she smells coffee.

It’s strange because she can’t remember the last time she has woken up to the smell of fresh coffee, it has been a long time anyway. For a moment her brain is so disorientated that she actually forgets where she is.

Then she stretches herself awake and remembers that she is not in her own place. 

She is at Becky’s.

She spent the night with Becky.

Maybe not in  _ that _ way but still, it happened. A small wave crashes against the shore of her mind and Charlotte has to will herself to move because dammit this bed is warm and comfortable, and she wouldn’t mind spending a little longer here.

“Shit,” Charlotte murmurs out loud to herself, and then she sits up so that she can run her hand through her hair and untangle some of the mess. She isn’t sure if she is saying shit to the fact that she has managed to sleep better than she has in a long time or that she didn’t even bother going home last night.

Shit indeed.

She decides to move, getting out of bed and following the smell of the coffee that is calling her name. Becky’s place is simple and it doesn’t take Charlotte long to find her way into the kitchen where Becky is busy at the coffee machine.

“Coffee smells good. How are you feeling?”

Becky perks up at the sound of Charlotte’s voice, glancing over her shoulder.

“I’m fine, bit sore but I’ll survive. You sleep alright?”

“I did,” Charlotte answers, taking a seat at the island, “what time is it?”

Becky shrugs, pouring two cups of coffee from the machine. “Was just after nine when I last checked. Here.”

“What kind of coffee is this?” 

It feels like an awkward question given the circumstances but Charlotte supposes that it is okay to feel awkward, she would rather feel that way and be real than be anything else.

“Some Brazilian coffee that Sasha gave me as a gift,” Becky says, having a sip of the dark liquid and joining Charlotte. “It’s grounded finer an’ roasted at lower temperatures or somethin’.”

Charlotte gives in to her mild curiosity, taking a drink of the coffee and becoming an instant convert as soon as it passes her lips. “Okay, so, I guess I’ll be buying this.”

“Good, right?” Becky asks. 

“Very.”

They end up sitting in silence, both of them sipping away at their coffee as the sun continues to rise outside, throwing a blanket of warmth over Becky’s whole apartment.

“Are you alright?” Becky’s voice shatters the silence to ask, her voice rough and coarse with fatigue or something else.

It snaps Charlotte out of her reverie. And when she lifts her head Becky has her head turned and is staring at her, like her eyes are hungry for her, happy to take all of Charlotte in and it spreads heat to Charlotte’s cheeks, to her stomach, to her fingertips wrapped around the mug. It’s a glorious feeling, even if a tiny part of Charlotte still wants to deny it.

“I don’t know,” Charlotte admits before she can stop herself. “I can’t remember the last time I slept so late… or so well.”

Becky gives her a doubtful look. If she were a cartoon, the glasses would be sliding off her face. “Isn’t that a good thing or nah?”

“It is.” Charlotte hesitates, shakes her head, not sure she knows where she is going with this conversation. “I don’t… it’s just comfortable with you, I guess. Nice even. Do you do this with all your friends?”

“Nah,” Becky says, pushing her empty mug away from her. Charlotte hears Becky let out a pained sigh as if she’s just thrown herself down onto the floor. “But I think it’s time to stop pretendin’ we’re just friends cause that’s not what this is an’ we both know it.”

Charlotte’s skin goes hot everywhere. “What does that even mean with us?”

“It means what it means.”

“Which is?” Charlotte asks, a hundred questions forming in her mind, all of them trying to get her attention at the same time. She feels her heart pounding. “What are we going to do?”

With another sigh, Becky leans back on the stool, one hand perched on Charlotte’s, like she wants to wrap her arm around Charlotte but doesn’t. Becky swallows, her throat bobbing as Charlotte watches her, waiting.

Charlotte has never met anyone who made it impossible for her to breathe but at the same time gives her a surge of oxygen straight into her lungs.

It is messed up. It is all messed up.

“It’s not about me,” Becky declares, “it depends on what you want.”

“That’s unfair, Becky.”

“It’s not though,” Becky argues. “You have more to think about than me. I’m not puttin’ it all on you cause I know I need to be in it too but y’know...”

Charlotte knows that you can’t tell anyone who they can and can’t want. You can’t put strict limits on it either. You have to take the shackles off it. It doesn’t dwell on your job, doesn’t give a damn about geography or time, it can’t be simply contained.

As Becky looks at her so calmly, her eyes kind and patient, Charlotte is able to catch a breath and focus on what is in front of her even though all she wants to do is take Becky and kiss her until she can’t remember her own name.

“I’ve already thought about it,” Charlotte admits, “and I don’t want to fuck with your head.”

The air between them feels heavy, like it is difficult to pull enough of it into their lungs.

It isn’t cold but Charlotte feels goose bumps scattering down her arms and along the ridge of her spine when Becky grasps her hand and says, “Then don’t fuck with my head. We’re just gonna have to figure it out. Can you do that with me?”

“Yeah,” Charlotte says, “I can do that with you.”   


*****   


“You sure you’re okay over there?” Sasha asks for the third time in the space of five minutes.

Becky rolls her eyes. Honestly. “I’m fine. It’s just… I know what I want an’ I think Charlotte knows what she wants but…”

“But you don’t think it’s gonna happen?”

Becky can’t help but bite down on her lip. “I dunno if it’s gonna happen. I told her we’d figure it out. But she has a lot of shit to deal with first.”

Sasha laughs, feeling a tad ridiculous. “Damn, Becky. Has your life always been… what’s the phrase I’m looking for...”

“A tidal wave of fuckin’ chaos? Yeah.”

“Becky,” Sasha sighs. “I know it seems like it shouldn’t make sense… you and her. But I’ve seen you two together. For whatever reason, you two just… work. And you know how I feel about her. I would  _ not _ be saying this to you if I didn’t mean it.”

Becky shifts from where she is sitting in the kitchen, lowering herself down onto her couch with a grimace as a dull pain shoots up her right side. She has to remember and take more painkillers in an hour.

“Are you that shocked by what I said?”

“Kinda,” Becky admits. “Never thought I’d live to see the day you’d say somethin’ nice about Charlotte Flair especially when it comes to me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sasha says, “I guess she grew on me at the hospital or something.”

“Looks that way.”

“Don’t change the subject,” Sasha says, spinning them back around to their original conversation. “Why don’t you think it’ll happen?”

“I dunno.” Becky huffs. “I’m just scared I guess, I’ve never had this with anyone for a long time. Callie… Callie was great an’ I ruined it, I don’t want the same to happen with Charlotte before it even starts.”

“Becky,” Sasha sighs, “you didn’t ruin it from what you’ve told me. You went through a traumatic experience that everyone would struggle with.”

“Yeah, but -”

“There isn’t any but,” Sasha argues, and Becky can feel her rolling her eyes at the other end of the phone. “You have to let that go. Callie is doing great and you know that. If you hadn’t broken up with her you wouldn’t be here.”

Callie Murphy. 

Becky and Callie go back almost ten years. They’d met as optimistic eighteen year olds, just before Becky had turned professional a year later. They had been together almost three years when things initially got difficult. The boxing consumed Becky and Callie started to play second fiddle.   


It had disaster written all over it.  


*****

_ Callie pulls on Becky’s hand, steering her in the direction of the kitchen. She sits Becky down onto one of the stools. _

_ “You washed it yet?” _

_ Becky looks down at her hand, it is just beginning to bruise around the knuckles that she has split. “Nah.” _

_ “C’mere, put it in the sink.” _

_ Callie holds Becky’s hand under the tap, every time she moves it more blood pools around the knuckles and then into the steel sink. If it hurts, Becky isn’t showing it. _

_ “You can’t keep goin’ like this, Becky.” _

_ “I have to.” Becky clenches her jaw, unclenches and wills the pain to disappear from her hand. “It’s the super middleweight belt, Callie, I need to keep goin’.” _

_ She’d gotten the call two months ago and she now has less than six months to go before the fight. Mick is taking her to the limits of her abilities but Becky can feel herself becoming stronger, not just physically but mentally too. _

_ “You’re working too hard, it’ll come back to bite you.” _

_ “Don’t,” Becky cuts her off. “You said you would support me with this. I told you what it would mean.” _

_ “And I am, Becky,” Callie argues, “but I’m worried about you too. Every day there’s new cuts and bruises. I hardly see you anymore.” Callie grabs a water bottle sitting on the table, taking a sip and then passing it onto Becky who accepts it, letting the water wash away what’s inside of her. _

_ “I’ll make more time for us.” It’s wishful thinking and maybe they both know it. _

_ Callie nods and dabs some antiseptic cream onto the broken skin, and Becky’s eyes move with Callie’s hands as she works. She knows Becky is eager for the fight but it’s tough. There’s a lump in Callie’s throat that she can’t seem to swallow down these days. _

_ She kneels as she wraps a fine layer of white gauze around Becky’s hand before she leans down and rips the gauze with her teeth, strapping the whole thing together. She’s pretty much an expert at it after all these years. _

_ She leans forward before she softly presses a kiss against Becky’s forehead. “Alright.” _

***** _   
_

“I guess you have a point.”

“I always have a point, Becky.”

“Sasha, please.”

“What? Isn’t my bluntness one of your favorite things about me?” Sasha asks.

“Sash-”

“You know I love you, right? I say these things because I know your worth and I want what's best for you.” 

“I know, I know.” Becky shrugs even though Sasha can’t see her. “That good ol’ tough love.” 

“I can’t believe these words are about to come out of my mouth,” Sasha takes a deep breath and lets out a laugh, “call me a hopeless romantic but I want to see my best friend with the person she is supposed to be with and right now - against all the odds - that person is apparently Charlotte fuckin Flair.”

*****  


_ When it becomes clear to Becky that it is over she cries that day, really cries, probably for the first time in years. _

_ Callie looks down at the key on the table, up at Becky, and then she smiles. A smile shot through with so much pain that Becky wants to break something. She wants to hit out until all she feels is numb. Instead, she takes Callie’s hand, brings it into her, and tries to say goodbye in a way only Becky can. _

_ “You told me from the beginnin’ what this would do to me an’ I wouldn’t listen,” Becky says quietly. “I’m sorry for that.” _

_ It’s the right decision. They are at a major crossroad and Becky is learning how to live her life all over again out of the hospital, and it’s something she has to do by herself. There is no boxing anymore, that carpet has been well and truly pulled from under her feet. There’s no nothing really except the long term offer of America with Finn but even now that’s not something she can really think about. _

_ There’s a tiniest hint of a smile on Callie’s face when they pull back from each other. _

_ “What’s so funny?” Becky asks. _

_ “You,” Callie says simply. “You’re not sure if we should do this now.” _

_ Becky nods. “Do you think we should still do it?” _

_ “Yeah, I think we have to do it,” Callie says, “we both know it too.” _

_ Becky pushes the doubt down with the sadness and the anger and leans her head against Callie’s. “I’m sorry.” _

_ “Stop apologising, Becky,” Callie murmurs, “I’ll let you apologise for a lot of things but not for bein’ who you are. I love that person, but we need... we need to go different ways now. There’s someone out there for you, y’know?” _

_ Laughter bubbles up through Becky’s lips. “I doubt it.” _

_ “I don’t.” _

_ Callie kisses her for the last time before she leaves. Maybe this breakup is the only way that Becky will rediscover who she is, someone that is purely herself. She had dreams. These amazing dreams that she needs to rework into something else now. _

_ Becky later decides that she will let this whole situation and heartache be her teacher. It’s the only way she thinks she can get over it.  _   


*****   


When Charlotte gets home to her apartment the argument is sudden and furious, like a tidal wave crashing over them and dragging everything they have built up between them over the years down beneath the surface, never to be seen again.

“Oh, you’re finally home,” Tyler says sharply, there’s a mocking tone to his voice, and Charlotte feels her frustration flare. “Thought I was never going to see you again.”

“Don’t start.”

“No. Don’t you fucking start, Charlotte!” Tyler’s yell is a booming noise, and Charlotte thinks that he likes that. It makes him sound powerful and in control. “I told you already I was sick of this shit with Becky.”

Charlotte looks at him, watches the light from the window flicker over his expression. In the depths of his eyes there is a whole other world, and she doesn’t want to explore it any further. 

“Is that where you were last night?” he asks.

Charlotte knows she should just stay quiet and wait for the storm to pass them by but she can’t help but spar with him. Like boxers they circle one another, the gloves are off, it’s time. Becky would be proud of her.

“I stayed with her, yes.”

“Why?” he snaps.

“Because I wanted to. It was my choice, Tyler,” Charlotte answers quickly. “I wanted… she needed someone.”

She almost said it.

She wants Becky.

And that is all that matters.

The feeling hits like an electrical current – spreading out from her chest in hot, intentional waves that tear past the confusion that she has been feeling. The roar in her head crackles and then calms, vivid clarity returning to her mind.

Charlotte probably doesn’t have to do this but she is choosing to.

And maybe that is what has been missing from her life recently – choice.

She didn’t choose to be a CEO. She didn’t choose to put the club into its current position. She didn’t choose to have all of this. She doesn’t have to choose to keep walking this path and this life with Tyler.

But this? She is choosing this. She is choosing Becky and the thought of it causes a ripple to surge through her body.

“Why does it always have to be you?” Tyler sounds angry and Charlotte lets out a breath. “I’m sick of playing second fiddle to her. What the fuck is going on with you two? I don’t even sleep in my own bed anymore!”

“Tyler-”

“I told you she wasn’t our fucking problem and you still-”

“She isn’t a fucking problem!” Charlotte yells. “What don’t you get about that? Becks is...”

Tyler turns his head again, and this time his eyes fix on Charlotte’s. They move across her face, flashing. In his expression, she can see the surprise but it looks less convincing… as if Charlotte is confirming something he already knows.

“Oh, Charlotte,” Tyler murmurs, and then he laughs, finding the whole thing funnier than he has any right to. “The bodyguard,  _ really _ ?”

“I think you should leave,” Charlotte says. “We both know this is over and has been for a long time, we just couldn’t see it.”

Tyler doesn’t respond. An uncomfortable silence settles between them, and Tyler rocks his head from side to side, as if he hasn’t gotten the message yet. His eyes linger on Charlotte as if she has just made a terrible error.

Tyler looks up. “Has Becky made you see it?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” Charlotte says.

“How am I looking at you?”

“Like this is hurting you.”

“It is.”

“Bullshit,” Charlotte answers hotly. “We’re not the same people we were before, and don’t think I don’t know about your regular phone calls to Paige because I do.”

Tyler has a smile on his face again, but it doesn’t go deep and Charlotte catches a glimpse of something that looks a lot like darkness. “How’d you know about that?”

“I just do.”

“Not as stupid as you make out then are you?”

“I suggest you leave, Tyler,” Charlotte says bluntly, “take your stuff from the spare room and go. This is over. We’re done.”

“You think?”

“I know,” Charlotte answers. “We’re over. I don’t want to be a part of this anymore, and maybe I haven’t for a long time but I’ve just never had the courage to say it.”

She knows instantly from the look in his eyes that her words have made their mark. In that instant their relationship has shattered into glassy shards and there is no way it can ever be put back together again.

“You’re making a big mistake, Charlotte.”

“At least it’s mine to make. Now please, leave.”

An hour later Charlotte watches him leave, walking past her and out the door towards the elevator. He murmurs something on his way out but she doesn’t catch it and she doesn’t have the energy to ask what he said. She watches as the elevator door slides shut on him and then he’s gone.

There’s a heaviness that weighs on her when she closes the apartment door. It’s not heartbreak but maybe something similar. Tears threaten to pour out but this time they are accompanied by relief because sometimes you have to do something you’re not really comfortable with, it is how you grow.   


*****   


_ Before Charlotte walks into the living room where Tyler is waiting on her, she pulls out the diamond necklace he’d given her earlier in the day. As soon as Charlotte enters his line of vision in the living room, Tyler turns around and immediately heads towards her. _

_ “Damn,” he says, running his gaze down her with a smirk. Placing his hands on her hips, he pulls her in closer for a kiss. “You look beautiful.” _

_ Charlotte feels the faint colour of red begin to tint her cheeks and the butterflies in her stomach. This is her first real relationship that feels like it is actually going somewhere serious. Her dating history is a mix of flings and nonsense, and it isn’t pretty.  _

_ Until now. _

_ Charlotte’s phone rings and that’s what breaks her gaze with Tyler. “Hold on,” she says and sees it’s a call from her mother. “I have to take this.” _

_ “It’s fine. We have time.” Tyler presses another kiss onto her cheek before she answers. _

_ Charlotte accepts the call, grinning wide when her mom says, “Happy Anniversary to you both, honey!” _

_ Tyler comes to stand behind her and his hand is on her waist. _

_ “Are you going out tonight?” her mom asks. “Your first year together is a big milestone!” _

_ “Yeah,” Charlotte answers with another grin, “Tyler just came to pick me up and we’re just about to head out.” _

_ “He’s such a gentleman. We need more men in the world like him.” _

_ Charlotte wonders if anyone else can sense the pulse in her neck hammering away like it does every time one of her parents praise Tyler like this. Tyler nods against the back of Charlotte’s neck like he can hear everything that is being said on the phone. _

_ “Don’t say that, his ego is big enough.” _

_ Her mom laughs. “Okay, I’ll let you two go. Have a great time, Charlotte. You deserve it.” _

_ When she hangs up the phone Charlotte wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him. “Thank you.” _

_ “For what?” Tyler chuckles. _

_ “For getting my mom to like you. For loving me.” _

_ “I should be thanking you for finally giving me a chance.” _

_ - _

_ They drive across town and Charlotte soon realises that she has absolutely no idea where they are going. She turns to look at him. “Where are we going?” _

_ “It’s a surprise.” _

_ Eventually Tyler takes an exit and they end up heading towards the bay. He parks at the harbour and Charlotte sees a small yacht illuminated with lights. _

_ “You didn’t.” _

_ “I did,” Tyler confirms with a nod. “Thought we’d have dinner on the water.” _

_ When they get onto the boat Tyler disappears for a few minutes and returns with a huge bouquet of flowers. They are red roses and Charlotte isn’t overly keen on them but her mouth falls open anyway. _

_ “Flowers?” she asks, taking them. “You sure know how to make a girl feel special. Thank you.” She buries her nose into the petals and sighs. _

_ “Does this mean I’m getting lucky tonight?” Tyler taunts. _

_ “Wouldn’t push it,” Charlotte singsongs. The waiter brings a vase and Charlotte places them onto their table on the upper deck. It’s clear that all of this has been pre planned to a tee in advance. _

_ Tyler takes a few steps towards her and cups her cheeks. “You’re special to me, Charlotte.” _

_Charlotte lets out a giggle, giddy about where they are._   


*****   


“What are you doing here?”

Becky squints, scratching her head a little. “You didn’t seem yourself when I called so I thought I’d come over.”

“You came over because of a phone call?”

Becky nods firmly and buries her free hand deeper into her pocket. There is something hopeless about this situation, about the way Charlotte is standing in the door frame with surprise written all over her face, and the way Becky is standing opposite wondering if she’s done something wrong and completely misread the signs.

But then Charlotte laughs softly and Becky feels her worries deflate. “You better come in then. How did you even get here?”

“Sasha dropped me off.”

Becky follows Charlotte into the apartment, choosing to take up the invite of the couch instead of the kitchen where Charlotte is busy making up a couple of drinks, and it’s not coffee for once.

Charlotte returns with two small glasses that she sits on the table in front of them. Becky waits for Charlotte to say something and Charlotte waits for Becky to ask a question. Something feels different. Becky can’t figure out what it is, if it’s just one thing or a combination of things, but it feels different between them.

“Will you be okay with a drink like this because if not I can -”

“I can handle a drink. I’m Irish remember?” Becky jokes. “You wanna tell me what happened today?”

Charlotte tenses. “I told you earlier what happened.”

“I know you did,” Becky says, “but if you wanna talk about it more or-”

Charlotte looks at her with a strange expression, like the words have registered but she doesn’t know how to answer them. Then she turns to her drink, taking a healthy gulp before returning her attention back onto Becky.

“I don’t know if I want to talk about it,” Charlotte says slowly. “I know I did the right thing but there’s that feeling that you get when a relationship comes to an end…”

“Like your shield cracks a little,” Becky offers, “and the air gets knocked outta you.”

Charlotte glances at Becky as the crack starts fragmenting, the shield disintegrating piece by piece. After a few seconds her body relaxes and straightens. 

“Exactly like that,” Charlotte says. “Sometimes you just don’t fit with people anymore.”

“Ah, yeah. I get that.”

“Sometimes you fit with other people instead,” Charlotte says quietly, leaning over to place her glass back onto the table, then she turns to face Becky, folding one leg on the couch.

Becky wipes her hands on her thighs, and Charlotte shifts so that her position mirrors Becky’s own, not reacting when their knees bump and then come to rest against each other.

Becky knows already that Charlotte could never be a good poker player. She has too many tells, too many ways that she reveals what is going on inside of her head. She shuts her eyes when she is struggling to juggle everything. She bites the inside of her cheek when she is frustrated. She turns her chair and stares out the office window when she has had enough for the day. And now she is fidgeting with her hands because she is unsure what to do or say next.

So Becky lifts her hand and moves some of Charlotte’s hair away from her face, letting her palm rest against Charlotte’s cheek, her thumb tracing a slow pattern across Charlotte’s cheekbone.

“Yeah,” Becky whispers, her heart bobbing high against her chest, “sometimes it can be like that.”   
  
When Becky let’s her hand fall away from Charlotte’s face, Charlotte reaches for it, linking their fingers together so that Becky’s fingers fit in the space between Charlotte’s. Charlotte’s hand is cold, and as it warms in Becky’s own, her attention wanders to Becky’s hand.

There are lots of intricate details on Becky’s hand and Charlotte can tell that Becky’s hands have done a lot of work over the years. The lines at Becky’s thumb swirl like an unfinished drawing and there are little nicks and scars that are probably never going to go away.

“Would it be completely inappropriate if I asked you to stay here with me tonight?” Charlotte asks.

“Nah,” Becky says, squeezing Charlotte’s hand so that she feels the slight tension in her wrist. “It’s only fair I return the favour of last night. It’s been awhile since I slept on a couch though-”

“Becky-”  
  
"Charlotte."

“I’d offer you the spare but Tyler has been holed up in there recently.”

“It’s alright, Charlotte. We need to take this slow.”   
  
Charlotte smiles because she knows Becky is right. “At least my couch is comfy.”    
  
“Eh,” Becky sighs, “it ain’t the worst thing I’ll have slept on.”    
  
“Hey!”

Becky squeezes her hand again and Charlotte knows that there’s a deep rooted comfort in having your hand held, knowing that someone else actually wants to touch you, and that someone else wants to be close to you. There is a sense of security that comes with the brush of someone else’s hand, the linking of fingers, the pressing of palms, it’s a unique kind of security that you don’t really get anywhere else.

-   
  
Becky turns the TV off when she hears Charlotte pacing around again in the bedroom next door. She’d said goodnight to Becky thirty minutes ago and Becky is now convinced that Charlotte is wearing away a spot on her bedroom floor.

Becky lets out a hearty breath. She pulls the duvet away from her and winces as it drags across the bandage above her skin. Becky lets her fingers find the wound underneath the fabric of the t-shirt she is wearing – long and oversized, and definitely Charlotte’s – and it feels rough against the tips of her fingers.

The wound is beginning to itch a little and Becky knows that’s a good sign, that means that her skin is starting to knit back together and heal like it should. Maybe her luck is changing for the better right now.

She gets up and pads through the hallway to where she knows Charlotte’s bedroom is. She doesn’t know whether to call out or knock so she settles on a combination of both, only pushing down on the handle when she hears Charlotte tell her it’s okay to come in.

Charlotte is not in the room when Becky enters, instead she is outside on the balcony with her back towards Becky. Charlotte likes the balcony’s quiet. She likes looking up at the sky and feeling like her problems are swallowed up by its expanse.

Much like the rest of the apartment the bedroom is enormous. The colours are vibrant and strong, and there’s murals on the wall, hand painted by someone who clearly knows what they are doing. The room is elegant and beautiful, a bit like Charlotte. Becky isn’t really surprised by the whole vibe of the place.

“What brings you out here?” Becky asks as she makes her way through the doors that lead outside. The balcony has an eclectic beauty to it, an artistry, a fluidity that Becky appreciates.

The vast skyline pierces through the dark like a jagged mountain ridge. Lights cause the mass of buildings to glitter and shimmer. People are like needle points from this high up and the cars are like blood cells flowing through the city’s veins. Despite the time, the city isn’t quiet by any stretch.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Charlotte admits and attempts a smile that’s barely a shade of its usual brightness, and even that fades out too quickly for Becky’s liking. “As you probably guessed.”

The gentle lull of Charlotte’s voice pulls Becky in and she quickly settles against the railing next to her. “Kinda heard you walkin’ about, yeah.”

The sweep of Becky’s eyes is subtle enough but Charlotte feels it all the same, as though Becky is looking right through her, reading everything that’s going on in her mind.

It’s funny, Charlotte thinks, if the world ended tomorrow, how would she go? Without having risked anything or having said the things that she can’t stop thinking about to the person she can’t stop thinking about?

She almost leans in, almost pulls Becky into a kiss, but then she stops. Charlotte can feel the immediate tension in her own spine. Becky’s hand ends up on her arm and Charlotte feels the tension seeping away.

“You alright?” Becky asks.

“I’m… just thinking, that’s all.”

“You wanna let me in on what about?”

“This,” Charlotte says bluntly, and then she gestures her hand in the space between them.

“Alright.” It’s clear that Charlotte is trying to figure out what to say, and Becky has two choices – she can let Charlotte wait it out or she can try and encourage the issue. In the end there’s no choice to make really. “Take your time.”

Charlotte wonders if the people you’re supposed to have in your life don’t just magically show up some day. Maybe they are in you all along, another piece of your own puzzle. Maybe she has a Becky shaped puzzle piece somewhere, she thinks so.

“Can I be honest with you?”

“I’d prefer it if you were,” Becky answers, “y’know me by now.”

“I want you,” Charlotte says quietly, “I want to be with you, whatever this is… I want it.”

Charlotte feels Becky’s hand twitch on her arm, and then Becky’s eyes are searching Charlotte’s face for something and she must find it because Becky’s hand comes up to her cheek, and then the other in her hair. Becky’s face is open and naked and raw.

And then Becky’s lips are on hers and it feels like everything she’s been waiting for since the last time they were in this position. Charlotte isn’t sure who closes the gap but she thinks and hopes that it’s Becky because that would mean that Becky definitely wants her too.

Becky sighs and deepens the kiss and she kisses Charlotte as if she is something delicate and precious, something Becky treasures and holds with reverence.

It isn’t just the way Charlotte feels, or smells, or tastes for Becky, no, it’s the little things like the way she sighs into Becky’s mouth when they kiss again, like: finally.

Charlotte has walked into her life and everything has changed.

Finally, she’s found Charlotte and Charlotte has found her – and the sadness and frustration that they both carry inside of them has gotten smaller and things look a lot brighter.

Charlotte becomes aware of everything about Becky: the taste of her mouth, how she feels warm pressed against Charlotte, the glide of her hands moving through Charlotte’s hair then towards her hips so that she can pull Charlotte even closer.

Every pound of her heart clings to her ribs and her body thrums with Becky and the reality doesn’t come until Becky pulls away and rests her head against Charlotte’s own. They try to breathe through the inches between their lips.

Becky once read that all who wander aren’t lost. But some people really are. They are really fucking lost, wandering until their feet bleed and their legs ache, and it feels like they’ll never find their way home again.

But then…

“I wandered around for a long time lookin’ for somethin’ better,” Becky says, “an’ I somehow found you, an’ I want to keep it that way.”

“You better.”

Maybe they just have to trust the connection they have with each other, Charlotte decides. Becky is a bit like finding something you think you have lost – you have to stop for a second and make sure that it is really yours, you have to wonder how you have gone so long without it, you have to ask yourself how something can feel so familiar and yet unexpected at the same time.

-

It’s late by the time they finally head back into the apartment and Charlotte feels the tell tale signs of sleep creeping into her body.

“We’re gonna be okay, y’know?” Becky says as Charlotte locks the door behind them.

“I think so too.”

“Goodnight, Charlotte.” Becky kisses her on the cheek, her lips lingering and then she pulls away but Charlotte catches her arm as she turns.

“Becky?”

“Anythin’,” is her reply.

“Can you… just stay here with me?”

Becky glances towards the bed, and then back at Charlotte as if she isn’t completely sure but then she says, “Which side?”

“Any.”

Becky shifts into the bed without saying anything and Charlotte climbs in beside her. Becky smells clean and fresh, like sleep and bare skin. She smells familiar. Not in the déjà vu sense of familiar but familiar like the ache you get in your chest when you miss someone, of craving warmth after you’ve been outside in the cold, or needing something back that you should never have questioned in the first place.

“We’re okay,” Becky whispers against her hair. “I’m gonna be here all night unless you kick me out. So go ahead an’ feel whatever you want to feel about that. If you need to cry about everythin’, that’s okay. If you want to talk, that’s okay too. You’re safe.”

“I feel like I’m in a minefield with you,” Charlotte whispers eventually. “Like someone just dropped us right in it out of nowhere and if we move too fast in anyway we’re going to step on something we shouldn’t and it’ll blow us to pieces. It’s…”

“Scary,” Becky offers quietly.

It really is scary.

Charlotte closes her eyes and falls asleep listening to the sound of Becky’s heartbeat. She finds it comforting.   


*****   


Charlotte isn’t nervous. Nope.

Okay, so that’s a lie, but whatever. It seems like a date. It looks like a date. It  _ feels _ like a date and yet she is afraid to ask whether it is a date or whether her and Becky are just having a late lunch together.

It is pretty fucking ridiculous.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, Charlie,” Becky says, slipping her jacket over her shoulders as she stands up from the table. “I’m fine, the food was fine, you’re fine, we’re all fine. Stop worryin’.”

“I’m trying.” Charlotte fights to keep her tone light and even. “Was this… well, you know, a first date?”

“I dunno, is it?”

“I’m asking you.”

God, she’s really bad at this.

“I’ve already shared more breakfasts with you than most people in my life,” Becky returns eventually. “I know what you look like in the morning. I know what you act like when you have a long day ahead. I know how you like your coffee. I know you use those fancy air freshener things to make your office seem nicer. So, I doubt we’ll ever need to do a first date officially cause we’re pretty much already at the three month mark.”

Charlotte tilts her head back and laughs, leaning across to put her arm on Becky’s shoulder. “You really do have a way with words at times.”

“It happens.” Becky shrugs, firing Charlotte a smile of her own. “You ready to get out of here?”

“Absolutely.”

After leaving the restaurant they set off, walking together underneath the high sun that’s pouring its rays into the city, bringing the world into full view, adjusting the brightness and contrast of everything. Becky has a way of walking that makes her seem in a hurry. Her strides aren’t long but they are rapid, so much so that Charlotte has to put her hand on Becky’s arm a few times to slow her down.

“Sorry,” Becky says, “I’m just used to bein’ in a rush, y’know.”

“It’s okay. I just have the disadvantage of heels today.”

Becky rolls her eyes. “You sure you can take this afternoon off?”

This time it’s Charlotte’s turn to tell Becky that everything is fine. “Yeah, I told you I cleared my schedule with Dana. I doubled up on certain things yesterday.”

“Alright.”

They wander around talking aimlessly about everything and nothing. They share secret smiles and gentle touches that burn through fabric and scorch skin. Her inability to shut up around Becky still surprises Charlotte even though it probably shouldn’t.

She’s about to speak again when Becky takes off a little quicker, crossing across Charlotte’s path to stand in front of a movie poster. The poster is all bright colours and bold images: a hand holding a hammer, the silhouette of a fire that Charlotte swears looks like the outline of a wolf, a background of trees and burnt out cars. It’s all very doomsday.

“Ah, I’ve been waitin’ for this movie,” Becky says when Charlotte comes to stand beside her. “It’s been ages.”

“Do you want to watch it? Looks quiet in there,” Charlotte states, nodding towards the movie theatre. “And there’s a screening soon.”

“You want to watch this movie with me?” Becky asks.

“I can… be into this kind of thing.”

“Name one action movie you’ve seen in the last five years?” Becky raises her brows in Charlotte’s direction as she struggles to come up with an answer. “Exactly.”

“Can’t I just do a nice thing for you? Unless you’d rather see it with someone else then -”

“Nah, that’s not it,” Becky interrupts.

“You sure?”

“Sure, I’m sure.”

“Then do you want to go and watch it?” Charlotte asks with a smile, and it seems so genuine with just the right hint of shyness that Becky feels it in her own stomach. “With me, obviously.”

“Yeah, alright then.”

The queue for tickets is relatively short when they get inside the building, and Becky reckons they are about sixth in line. The place is fancy, it’s not a run of the mill movie theatre and now that she thinks about it, Becky can’t actually say she knew it existed in the first place.

“What’s the movie about anyway?” Charlotte asks, leaning into Becky’s side.

“Well this is the second part. The first one was about this apocalyptic world where zombies have taken over,” Becky starts, “but there’s this girl who is immune to their bite so she’s basically the saviour of mankind an’ she’s smuggled across the country by this guy to find the cure but the people who claim to have the cure are dodgy.”

“Dodgy?” Charlotte asks.

Becky nods. “Yup, the smuggler ends up not being able to hand the girl over cause by that time they have that father daughter bond-”

“So there’s no cure,” Charlotte finishes for her. “And this is a sequel to that.”

“Yeah!” Becky answers, beaming in Charlotte’s direction. “You catch on quick.”

“It happens,” Charlotte says, slipping her hand into Becky’s own so that their fingers can link together. She ignores Becky’s burning look for a few seconds before she turns her head. “I know I’m holding your hand, it’s fine. I want to.”

“Alright. Good.”

“I want to do this too,” Charlotte adds quietly, leaning down so that she can press a quick kiss onto Becky’s cheek. “Thanks for letting me watch this movie with you.”

“Well,” Becky hums, squeezing Charlotte’s hand in the process. “I’ve had worse company at the movies.”

The queue moves quickly and before long they are next in line. She drops Charlotte’s hand and refuses to acknowledge Charlotte’s protests at paying for the tickets. Becky let’s Charlotte pick their seats though and if Becky’s stomach drops a little in anticipation when Charlotte opts for seats in the last row then she chooses to try and ignore it.

“Fancy in here, isn’t it?”

“A little. We have some time before it starts so I’m buying the drinks since you got the tickets,” Charlotte states. “What do you want? Beer or?”

“They sell alcohol in here?”

“Yeah. Bar is just through there.”

Becky blows out her cheeks. “How did I not know this place existed?”

“Come on,” Charlotte takes her hand again, navigating through the place with the ease of someone who has been there before.

The bar is nothing spectacular but there are a variety of bottles – both spirits and wines in view, and the fridges are fully stocked with different kinds of beers and sodas. There’s also a few stools lined up against the front of it where customers can sit if they want to.

It doesn’t register with Charlotte initially. Or, rather, the bartender doesn’t register with Charlotte initially. But the bartender certainly notices them and Becky in particular. She gives Becky a bright smile and a wave before calling out her name and Becky returns it.

It clicks eventually for Charlotte though. The bartender from the Gala.

“Old fashioned?” Mandy asks Becky, lifting up a glass in Becky’s direction. “I remember order’s like yours.”

“Uh sure, Mandy,” Becky says, “why not? How come you’re working here?”

“Contractor,” Mandy says, “I go where the work is.”

“Ah, makes sense.”

Mandy is gazing across the bar at Becky with a saccharine smile that allows a sickly feeling to invade Charlotte’s stomach, which is absolutely ridiculous in itself. She shifts where she is standing, loosening her grip on Becky’s hand and narrowing her eyes at Mandy. Of all the bars in all the world and all that crap, Charlotte thinks.

When Becky looks at Charlotte there’s a brief second where her eyes flare and a panicked look creeps into them, but it is gone just as fast. Becky wonders what Charlotte is concerned about. Then when Charlotte notices Becky staring at her, the earlier expression is replaced with a slow, easy smile across Charlotte’s face.

_ Oh. _

“What do you fancy to drink?” Becky asks, putting her hand on the base of Charlotte’s spine.  _ Together, _ it says, loudly, even though Mandy is too busy making Becky’s drink up.

Pride makes Charlotte want to pretend that she doesn’t know that Becky has clocked on to the fact that she is being silly and a little jealous for no reason, but the need for a drink wins out and she lets herself lean into Becky’s hand on her back. “Wine is fine for me. White please.”

“You got it,” Mandy says, sitting Becky’s drink down and then turning away from them again.

Becky’s forehead creases for a second and then she pulls Charlotte’s hand back into her own, and Charlotte is unable to resist it. Becky’s hand is a warm, heavy weight in her own and it is reassuring in a way that makes colour creep up Charlotte’s neck.

“There you go…” Mandy glances between the two of them several times before she gives them both a small smile and backs away. She finally gets it, Charlotte thinks. “If you need another drink or anything else then come find me.”

They leave with their drinks and the theatre is almost empty save for a few people dotted around. It’s easy to get to their seats and there’s no one in the back row with them. The seats look like first class plane seats to Becky: they look spacious and comfortable and oddly cosy.

Becky settles into her own seat, taking her jacket off and getting comfortable before Charlotte does the same. The armrest that lays in between the chairs is an unfortunate barrier and Becky wonders if that can be adjusted.

“I like what you did back there,” Charlotte murmurs quietly as the lights dim. It probably saves Becky from seeing the heat growing on her cheeks again. It probably saves her too, Charlotte thinks to herself.

“Well,” Becky says, “I’m here with you. An’ I wanna be here with you.”

They slip into a comfortable silence until the film starts and when it does, Becky leans forward on her seat, ignoring the pain that drifts through her ribs. The darkness of the film is a gloom that permeates every aspect of the plot, and it quickly owns Becky’s eyes.

Charlotte watches Becky for a few minutes, noticing the way that Becky’s eyes widen at what’s happening on the screen; the way her leg bounces like she’s nervous about what is going to happen; and the way she takes a sip of her drink and puts it back down without even looking.

It’s all kinds of adorable.

It catches Becky off guard when Charlotte tilts her chin and kisses her. It’s a simple kiss and there’s nothing fiery about it, it is one steeped in realness and very much rooted in the present moment. And while it surprises her, Becky doesn’t have any complaints about it, instead she holds on to it in a way that she hasn’t for a long time.

When they break apart, Charlotte lifts the armrest between the chairs and presses herself closely against Becky, welcoming the warmth that it brings to her. Charlotte worries, belatedly, about the media. About the fact that they could be photographed or filmed at any moment, completely blowing their cover and this new found relationship that they are carving out together.

Eventually Charlotte decides that it is a worry that can wait for another day because Becky stretches her arm around Charlotte shoulder so that Charlotte’s head can rest in the crook of her arm. Even though she’s already memorised the tilt of Becky’s jaw and the way her cheekbones curve to define her face, Charlotte can’t help but look again. Becky is stunning and there isn’t really any other word for it.

Charlotte believes you can usually define good company not by the conversation exactly but by the lack of it. When there is no need to talk or ramble to feel comfortable that is exactly the right kind of company to be in.

When she stops looking at Becky, she buries her head into Becky’s t-shirt, exhaling the clean and crisp smell that is uniquely Becky. She feels Becky’s arm tighten around her shoulder before fingertips are brushing her arm and soft lips press a gentle kiss on her temple.

Charlotte watches the movie until she doesn’t.

Becky doesn’t know exactly when Charlotte falls asleep, Becky just knows that she does after a while. It’s funny, a few nights ago it was her falling asleep on Charlotte and now the roles are reversed. Becky likes it, she knows that much, she likes the weight of Charlotte against her, and the subtle smell of Charlotte’s perfume and the way Charlotte’s face is relaxed and peaceful. Becky soaks all the tiny details in.

It’s the noise of an explosion on the screen that rouses Charlotte. She squints at the screen and then up at Becky who is grinning down at her like she’s just made the funniest joke or is about to.

“Enjoyin’ the movie?” Becky whispers.

Charlotte pushes away from Becky, rubbing at a spot on the back of her neck and trying to stifle a yawn. “I’m… enjoying it just fine.”

“Oh yeah,” Becky laughs, “you were payin’ real close attention durin’ all that snorin’.”

“I was not snoring!”

“Fine,” Becky concedes quietly, “you weren't but it was worth seeing your face like that.”

“Are you complaining that I fell asleep on you?”

Becky is smiling a little, a smile with a twist to it, like someone who doesn’t want to admit something. She keeps her eyes on Charlotte for a few moments that stretch before she says, “Nah, I ain’t complainin’. I kinda liked it…”

“Are you enjoying the movie?”

“Yeah,” Becky answers. “It’s great.”

“You’re not even looking at the screen…”

“I’m lookin’ at what I need to.”

Becky’s smile widens and it sparks a thrill in Charlotte for some reason. It’s a surprisingly heavy moment, like they suddenly know what is going to happen and they both want it to happen.

This time when Charlotte leans across to claim a kiss Becky is more than prepared for it. A sigh vibrates into Becky’s mouth and the way Charlotte kisses her is intoxicating. Becky’s heart pounds in her chest and it feels like this rapidly escalating moment is one of the best and most impulsive things Becky has ever done.

“We need to be careful,” Charlotte whispers, glancing around the room but no one is paying them any attention at all. Then she’s tilting Becky’s chin up so that their lips are barely an inch apart. Their noses brush and Becky breathes heavily against her mouth.

The kiss is full and deep, and Charlotte’s nails end up digging into the skin on the back of Becky’s neck in a way that makes Becky’s throat sound rough with sound.

“I like you a lot,” Becky says when they eventually separate.

“You haven’t really made that a secret,” Charlotte answers, leaning her forehead against Becky’s.

“Maybe I should start doing that then.”

“You shouldn’t start playing new games when you’re already winning the one you’re in, Becks.”

Becky understands then that if you keep your heart in the game long enough, if you just keep it going, there will always be another round to go.

And incredible people to spar with.   
  
\-    
  
When Charlotte’s eyes open, it takes her a few moments to remember why Becky is sleeping against her. Her eyes take a few seconds to adjust to the darkness and for a refreshing change, it feels like her bedroom is a place to rest without any consequences. It’s a little sanctuary for them, a place to recharge and relax. It’s just after midnight when Charlotte checks her phone.

They’ve been asleep for a couple of hours. After the movie they had gone to dinner and then decided to come back here so that Charlotte could change out of her work clothes. Becky had offered to stay and Charlotte had been happy to oblige.

Charlotte turns her attention back onto Becky who is asleep on her side and on Charlotte’s arm. Charlotte’s arm that is about to be bombarded with pins and needles, she can feel the first tingle of it in the tips of her fingers.

Charlotte eases her arm out from underneath Becky and moves off the bed as quietly as possible, it is an art she has refined these days. Reaching down, she grabs the duvet and pulls it up so that Becky is fully covered before she leaves the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.

After grabbing a bottle of water, she settles down on the couch, using the throw to drape over her bare legs. Her phone has a huge list of emails that makes her eyes water. It’s going to take her a while to skim through them all for tomorrow. She switches the tv on to give her some dull white noise.

When she takes a break she notices that it’s now way past one in the morning. She’s all but gotten through the emails and replied to the most important ones first. There are no regrets about taking the afternoon off to spend with Becky but God, what a pile of shit she has to return to.

“You’re up late.”

Charlotte glances over to find Becky leaning against the wall in the hallway. She’s wearing one of Charlotte’s old t-shirts and it’s long enough that it covers her thighs, but also highlights the curves of her body underneath it. The attraction to Becky remains a constant thing, there’s something about her and Becky that just match in the right way.

“Hey.” Charlotte reaches for the remote to mute the TV. “Did the TV wake you?”

“Nah.” Becky shakes her head and makes her way over to where Charlotte is sitting. Charlotte watches as Becky pulls back the throw and settles against her side, resting her head against Charlotte’s shoulder and yawning. “I dunno what woke me. What you doin’?”

“Turns out taking half the day off from work leaves you with a load of emails, who knew?”

“Sounds excitin’.”

“Exhilarating.”

Becky laughs at the sarcasm. “Thanks again for yesterday. It was so good to get out and about. I’m goin’ crazy bein’ cooped up all the time.”

Charlotte quickly realises that she can forget about the emails now, her focus has gone and quite frankly she doesn’t care when she gets to see Becky like this.

“I had a good time, lots of emails be damned. Maybe we should watch the first one some time.”

Becky nods against her shoulder. “Maybe this time we’ll actually make it through the movie.”

Charlotte shakes her head, searching for something to say, but Becky interrupts her, moving hair out of Charlotte’s face with her finger and settling it behind her ear.

“I wasn’t complainin’ before you start.”

Charlotte attempts to say ‘good’ because she is pretty certain that it is going to happen again but she’s met with Becky’s lips on her own. There’s no delay to the kiss. Becky is eager and willing, and Charlotte gives in. Becky’s hand comes up to her neck, holding her gently to the kiss. Charlotte can taste the want in it all, but it lacks the messiness of their earlier kisses at the theatre.

It is intimate this time.

There’s a whimper that floats between them and Charlotte is surprised to find that it has actually come from her. Becky moves and it’s a little awkward to manoeuvre around but she finally settles so that she can pull Charlotte down on top of her.

Becky cups her cheeks and pulls Charlotte down further so that she can press their foreheads together. She looks at Charlotte like she is trying to memorise the softness of her skin and the way Charlotte’s face feels in her hands and how Charlotte feels against her.

Charlotte lifts her hands to wrap her fingers around Becky’s arms, running her thumb down and then over the inside of Becky’s wrists, and she tries her best to hold onto this moment because it feels like an important step in their new freshly blooming relationship.

Charlotte swallows, running the pad of her thumb across Becky’s lips. When she catches Becky’s eyes with her own she frowns. She doesn’t know what she sees but it’s not a happy expression, it’s… something else.

“Becks, are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re lying.”

“I am. You’re kinda leanin’ on my side.”

“Oh. Shit. Sorry.” Charlotte goes to move but Becky holds her in place, both of them pressed together. “I can move?”

“Nah, I’m alright, just need to take a couple breaths. I can handle the pain for this.”

Charlotte’s lips ghost over Becky’s own, allowing Becky to have a few moments to herself. She feels Becky’s hands move, coming to rest against her hips before tracing a path upwards towards Charlotte’s shoulder blades where they come to a stop.

When Becky kisses her again Charlotte knows tomorrow is going to be a long day and she’s certainly going to be tired.

Charlotte also knows that this is totally worth it.    


*****   


“You need to eat,” Dana says as she closes the door to Charlotte’s office behind her. “And I need a break.”

Charlotte has been in meetings all morning including a particularly boisterous video call with big investors that has left a lingering headache. Becky has kept her amused with various texts and if she has made several jokes about Charlotte being tired because they stayed up all night kissing like horny teenagers then Charlotte has to admit that it’s true. She hasn’t had anything but coffee to give her fuel and now that Dana is holding food out in front of her she could cry.    


“You’re a lifesaver!” Charlotte is already up from her desk and moving across the room. Dana hands her the bag and Charlotte has to remind herself to have manners instead of digging straight into the sandwich before sitting down. “Thank you and please, by all means, have a seat.”

Dana unpacks her own food quickly too, taking a few bites before she even talks to Charlotte again. “How were the meetings?”

Charlotte rolls her eyes. “What you’d imagine them to be.”

“How’s Becky? I miss her around here, Sheamus is cool and all but not like Becky.”

“Becky’s, uh, Becky’s good,” Charlotte answers. “Yeah, she is doing well in her recovery.”

“I thought you’d-”

There’s a knock on Charlotte’s door, followed by the door opening. She’s been expecting this to happen. Perhaps not at work but she has been expecting Tyler to seek her out at some point.

“I’d like a word,” Tyler says. “Alone.”

Dana sips at her fresh coffee and then hums. She slides out of the chair across from Charlotte, taking her lunch with her, and then gives Charlotte a reassuring smile, as if to tell Charlotte that if she needs anything then Dana will be just outside.

“My work place, really?” Charlotte asks when Dana has left and it’s just the two of them.

“Well, I didn’t know where to find you these days, Charlotte,” Tyler says, “last time I called your office you were out, long lunch apparently.”

“What do you want?”

And just like that, the office goes silent.

“Well, it’s funny you should ask,” Tyler says, moving forward so that he’s standing in front of Charlotte’s desk. “I want part of this.”

Charlotte recoils like she’s been burned. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t need a fancy office or an assistant or even  _ security _ ,” Tyler taunts, his voice is low and distant, “but this club? I want a part of it. I want a seat at the top table.”

“You want a part of this club?” Charlotte repeats and the whole argument puts her on the back foot, giving Tyler the upper hand.

“That’s what I said. I didn’t stick around for years to be left with nothing.”

Charlotte is quiet as she feels the energy between them shift, like a snake shifting back on itself, swallowing itself whole, anger and finality feeding off one another.

“I think you want me to lose my temper. I think you want to hurt me. You want me to get angry and cry,” Charlotte says, “but I’m not going to do that so you’ll be waiting a long time.”

Tyler closes his eyes and inhales. And when he opens them, he peers over at her like a wounded animal.

“Nobody trusts a Flair, Charlotte. Certainly not me.” His voice, empty and emotionless, craft the harsh words and they land like shrapnel in Charlotte’s chest, slicing through the skin and bone underneath.

Everything Charlotte thought she knew about Tyler is stripped away.

“I want a part of this club,” he says, taking another step closer to her desk. “And I’ll get it too.”

“The club has nothing to do with you. This is my family’s club.”

“You really don’t get it, do you?” He asks, and Charlotte shivers at the way the words slide from his mouth like venom. “How’d you think it’s going to look for you and this club when everyone finds out you’ve been sleeping with an employee?”

Charlotte swallows harshly as she gazes up at Tyler’s eyes, they are blank and devoid of any feeling. “That isn’t what happened here so I suggest you don’t even go there.”

“And Becky,” he chuckles. “Not a good look for her either, is it? I wonder if you’re the first employer she’s had a thing with? All that reputation she has… going to waste…”

“I said, do not go there.”

“Another scandal for the club, Charlotte. Tut tut.”

“There is no scandal.”

“Oh I disagree,” Tyler laughs. “And investors will too.”

“Paige you mean, let’s cut to the chase.”

“Right,” Tyler nods, “you know the influence she has on overseas investors. She’s good. She’s also happy to welcome me onto the board which means other investors will be too. They know I’m good for it.”

“Oh I bet,” Charlotte breathes.

“I’ll give you a week,” Tyler sneers, “so you can decide what you want to do.”

Charlotte has no doubt that Tyler wants to turn her new world upside down and thoroughly rock it, and she has no idea if it will be recognisable after he is done with it.

“Oh, and Charlotte,” Tyler calls when he’s at her office door. “I’d think carefully about what you want to do here. There’s a lot at stake.”

The light of a victory glimmers deep within him. A win. A big one too.

He is radiant with it. 


	10. it's in the air, it's something in the way she drifts up there

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, we hope everyone is keeping healthy and safe in this current pandemic. We know it's tough but we hope this fic can give you some distraction from the outside world. 
> 
> Thank you so much for staying with us as we head into chapter 10 - the support on this has been incredible!

Under the sky, a gentle hue between cloud and blue, Charlotte watches the swipes of grey blur past the building. Birds. It is one of those days with a kiss of coldness that somehow heightens the rays of the sun above. She pauses, embracing the natural quiet that her apartment brings her now.

The apartment’s energy feels lighter, like there has been a literal cloud removed from above her head. Charlotte holds a mug of coffee in between her hands, the brand Becky had introduced her to, and it is starting to cool, the steam barely visible to her eyes anymore.

Everything is set up just the way she likes it. Her laptop open and powered on; her phone next to her on the right; a coffee in her hands; the door to the balcony slightly ajar so the breeze that sweeps in gently makes it feel like she isn’t working at all.

The cursor is blinking vertically at her and it is the only sign of life on the laptop screen. Charlotte watches as it disappears and then appears, disappears and then appears.

She is almost done for this morning. She has been catching up with numerous emails and signing off on new improved contracts for several key players of the Royals. The season is going well so far; they have three wins from the first four games and Charlotte couldn’t be happier with that side of things.

Her phone pings with a message again, much like it has done all morning, almost like a new continuous routine. It is Becky. Charlotte doesn’t know how she knows that it is her but she does. When she glances at the screen she gets the confirmation that she didn’t really need.

Charlotte is beginning to realise that the things that used to stress her out at home aren’t here anymore. How things have changed in just a few short weeks. Life is funny that way. 

The apartment is calm and in return so is she. It is a mutual thing. Often what we see on the outside becomes reflected on the inside and that applies to Charlotte too. Doing work at home is not an issue anymore. There is no one to complain about the balcony door being open when it doesn’t really need to be, or complain about her taking up too much space in the living room, or distract her from what she is supposed to be doing.

Her phone pings again.

Okay, so there are still distractions but they aren’t bad ones, they are actually pretty good ones these days.

It is Becky again. They have plans for tonight that Becky likes to remind her of apparently. Big plans that involve her and Becky going to Sasha’s bar together for the first time.

And Charlotte would be lying if she said she wasn’t looking forward to it because she is, but she is also a little nervous about the whole thing, but she figures most people would be in this situation so. Becky has assured her that it will be fine, it is just a casual thing with her friends and there is no need for Charlotte to worry.

Charlotte knows that Becky is genuinely looking forward to tonight too. She is getting cranky being cooped up at home with no work responsibilities to tide her by, Charlotte can tell. Becky tells her that there is not much a night at Sasha’s bar can’t fix and Charlotte is kind of hoping that that is true.

She hasn’t had anyone like Becky in her life since – well, ever, really; no one is like Becky. If someone had told Charlotte the day Becky started working with her that this is where they would be together a few months down the line then she would have thought they were crazy.

Another ping. But this time it is from her laptop. It is an email from Tyler.

She has tried to forget about his threat for the time being, but it keeps digging away at her. It plays over in her head, his voice harsh around the words like time has made the memory more jagged.

_I’ll give you a week so you can decide what you want to do._

There is a part of Charlotte that thinks Tyler is full of shit in his threat. She wonders if his words have been empty – a challenge to see how far he can push her or how far she is willing to go. She hasn’t discussed it with Becky yet because she figures it is better for them to enjoy this weekend together before dumping another load of crap onto them.

But Charlotte already knows her answer to Tyler regardless.

She ignores the email, instead she chooses to pick up her phone and check the messages that Becky has sent her. The second one is just a few beer emoji’s and Charlotte finds herself laughing at the silliness of it.

She really is in trouble.

“It’s Saturday,” Becky says with a sigh as soon as Charlotte picks up the phone a few minutes later. “It’s gonna be sunny an’ you’re done with work. So riddle me this, Charlie, why are we still cooped up inside?”

Charlotte laughs from where she is sitting, leaning forward so that she can fold her right leg underneath her. “Who says I’m done with work?”

“I just know.” Becky shrugs. “You reply to my messages faster when your concentration has gone. I was thinkin’ lunch?”

Charlotte grins, getting up from the couch and walking over to the balcony door. Becky is right, the sun is beginning to break through further. “I can do lunch. You know you don’t have to spend the whole day with me, right? I know we’re going out later-”

“Will you relax,” Becky interrupts. “I called cause I fancied havin’ lunch with you. I’m buyin’.”

“You’re in a good mood today.”

“It has been known,” Becky answers, “how about seafood by the Pier?”

“You just want to see the sea lions again.”

Becky laughs. “So? They were great, I’ll go say hi to Sully.”

“How about Henry?”

“That was the worst part of that whole day,” Becky says quickly, remembering their first time by the Pier together. “Who calls a sea lion Henry? I’m still offended by it.”

Charlotte pretends to be insulted; knows that she’s not really convincing, because it’s almost impossible to be annoyed at Becky for being Becky. Still, she replies lightly, “Well, if you’re done insulting my naming of sea lions, I can pick you up in an hour?”

“Deal.”

“Okay, it’s a date.”

“Yes, Charlie.” Becky’s stomach twists pleasantly as the words leave her mouth. “It’s a date.”  
  


*****

They are holding hands when they get to Beer Banks, but staying that way once they enter is an impossibility. It is busy. Bayley is already sitting inside a booth with a drink in front of her, waiting for them, and Charlotte watches as Sasha joins her a few seconds later.

“It’ll be alright,” Becky states, her voice straining to be heard over the noise. “You’ll be fine.”

“I hope so.”

“You will. C’mon.” Becky tugs on her hand so that Charlotte follows her over to the booth. Sasha and Bayley are pressed closely together on the inside while her and Becky take the bench together on the outside. “We finally made it.”

“Charlotte,” Bayley shouts, “it’s great to see you again!”

“It’s about time you two got here,” Sasha adds. “What are you all having?”

Bayley seems happy to sip on whatever drink she’d gotten earlier while Sasha gets the rest of them their order – it comes with an apparent free side order of some colourful shot that Charlotte just knows is going to make her eyes water and her throat burn.

“Drink up!” Sasha says.

“What even is this?” Charlotte shouts against the noise.

Sasha shoots her a smirk and shoves the tiny glass into her hand.

“Just drink.”

“This is the only one I’m havin’,” Becky says. “Just one.”

Becky brings a matching cup up to clink against Charlotte and Sasha’s, and then they both knock back the liquid. Charlotte watches them, a moment of silliness washing over her, briefly escaping as a laugh when Becky nudges her arm.

It does burn and make her eyes water. It seems to numb her throat from the inside out. But when Becky and Bayley send her a beaming smile, and when Sasha even sends her a grimace come smile, Charlotte accepts that this has been some sort of stupid test and she has obviously managed to pass it.

-

Charlotte is the first to admit that she feels a little bit fuzzy.

Actually, she has probably graduated from fuzzy to well on the way to being tipsy. Her brain feels like it is tilting and her glass always seems to look inviting, no matter how many times it gets refilled.

The most surprising thing about it all is that she really is having fun. Her and Bayley strike up easy conversations and Sasha is nice without being over the top about it, the music isn’t to her taste but it is also not the worst either.

And Becky is there with her. That is always an added bonus.

Becky who wraps her arm around Charlotte’s lower back when people push past their table; Becky who’s hand dips to Charlotte’s thigh to give it a reassuring squeeze every now and then; Becky who always offers to get the round of drinks in to save Charlotte having to get up and go to the bar herself.

Sasha and Bayley have left them to go and dance. There is no dance floor as such, it is just an unofficial squared area in the corner that people have apparently claimed. Charlotte wonders if she is supposed to feel like she fits in here with these people because despite her earlier reservations it feels like she does.

“You alright?” Becky asks.

Becky with her bright hair and white t-shirt and jeans, who absolutely fits in here.

“I’m fine.” Charlotte leans her head back so that her mouth is closer to Becky’s ear, shifting on the bench slightly. “I feel bad that I’m drinking and you’re not though.”

“I’ve had a couple beers,” Becky answers, “that’s enough for now.”

“Will you bring me back here when you can drink properly?”

It hits Becky in this particular moment, in a way that she knows she will never forget that Charlotte could take her hand and she could lead Becky anywhere. Just smile at her, hold out her hand and Becky would go straight to Hell with her and Becky would probably do it with a smile on her face.

“Sure, I’ll bring you back here.”

Charlotte looks at her, their faces close, almost too close for where they are. “And I can buy you a drink… or two.”

Becky nods, and then laughs. “Right.”

“I will!”

“I’m countin’ on it.”

Becky leans across to kiss Charlotte’s cheek quickly before she draws away again, Sasha sending them a glare from the dance floor that lets them know they definitely shouldn’t be this sappy in public.

Charlotte takes a few moments to watch Becky’s attention go back down towards the table before it fires defiantly back up in Sasha’s direction. She takes Charlotte’s hand into her own under the table, tracing little circles with her thumb on Charlotte’s skin.

Have you ever been homesick for something you’ve never really had?

That’s how Becky makes Charlotte feel, like she could find her way back home somewhere.

Charlotte wants to tell Becky what a silly word ‘happy’ is, and how it doesn’t come close to how she feels when she is with her.

-

Hot.

That is how Charlotte feels.

The more her feet and arms move the hotter she becomes until there’s a thin sheen of sweat clinging at her back. There are bodies all around her, bumping and swaying into her back and sides, and although she doesn’t have the same natural confidence as Sasha or the same easy going way as Bayley, Charlotte is managing to dance along with them easily. 

It’s not exactly somewhere she would expect dancing to happen but apparently that’s a wrong assumption. The music is bold and brash in her ears, it starts in her toes and then vibrates through her body like it is a race that has to be won.

It is only when she feels a hand grip at her hip and another body press against her back that her concentration breaks from what she is doing.

“Told you it would be fun.” Becky’s mouth is just at her ear before she’s standing in front of Charlotte, a smug grin on her face. “It’s good bein’ right.”

“I guess you were,” Charlotte calls back over the music. “Do you want to dance?”

“Nah, people bumpin’ into me is no good for this.” Becky’s attention directs downward and Charlotte’s own eyes follow, knowing exactly what Becky means. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright. Enjoy your dancin’.”

“Wait,” Charlotte reaches down and takes Becky’s wrist, fingers gentle yet firm against Becky’s skin. “Come with me.”

They end up in the bathroom, door locked and Becky pressed against it. Charlotte is the first to recover her breath and with it, struggles to breathe out the words she wants to say. “I’m sorry. Couldn’t help myself.”

Becky finds her hands have loosely dropped from around Charlotte’s neck, and now they are tracing their way up and down Charlotte’s arms. “Don’t be sorry.”

Charlotte only laughs as she lets her thumb trace the line of Becky’s jaw. “Sasha will kill us if she knows we’re in here doing this.”

“I’m comfortable with that.”

“Are you?”

“Yeah,” Becky breathes.

And then Becky is taking control, and Jesus Christ, Charlotte doesn’t really know what to do. It is a clash of tongue and teeth and it's rough and _hot_ and when Charlotte parts her mouth, Becky’s tongue is strong and deft, leaving Charlotte feeling it everywhere.

Becky hears the creek of the door before it even swings open. She has been in this bar so many times that she actually knows the building’s tells. She brings her finger up to press against Charlotte’s lips as footsteps follow inside the door. They aren’t alone anymore.

“I know you’re both in here!” Sasha yells.

Becky bites back a laugh and feels Charlotte’s head fall onto her shoulder, her body shuddering as she tries to stop herself too.

Then there are a few palm thuds against the bathroom stall door from the other side. “Please be done being horny teenagers in my bathroom stall. Don’t make me have to special clean it!”

“Uh,” Becky starts, “you already kinda need to special clean it.”

“That’s fucking gross, Becky, get the hell out of my stall.”

Sasha bangs on the door again and Charlotte can’t help it, she ends up dissolving into a puddle of laughter and Becky can feel Charlotte shaking against her as she fights another round of giggles.

“Two minutes,” Becky says, tilting Charlotte’s head up to press another kiss against her lips.

“I’ll be timing it if I gotta,” Sasha answers, “I managed to snag the pool table so hurry your asses up.”

“Easy,” Charlotte whispers when Sasha leaves and Becky presses into her again, “we can do this when we get home.”

“You wanna go play pool then?”

“Sure,” Charlotte says, “lead the way.”

The crowd has thinned a bit when they make their way back into the bar. It is still busy but they can move around freely now without bumping into anyone else. Charlotte figures Sasha must make a killing from this place. It is the kind of bar that knows exactly what it is and doesn’t make any apologies for it.

“Oh, you’re finally done,” Sasha taunts when she sees them. “Who’s first up?”

“I’ll try,” Charlotte says, “might as well give it a go.”

“Charlotte,” Bayley starts, “you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. She’s… competitive.”

Becky scoffs at Bayley’s comment. “Good luck with this.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” Sasha smirks, “watch and learn.”

Sasha chalks up her cue before turning her attention back onto the table. She leans down, drawing the cue back and then catching the white ball with just enough force that when it breaks the pack one of them rolls into the pocket in the far corner.

“Guess you’re stripes,” Sasha says simply to Charlotte.

Becky thinks she is about to watch an obliteration. Hell, it has happened to her on several occasions at this very pool table. Sasha has sunk four colours before she finally misses and Becky watches as Charlotte studies the lay out of the table in front of her. She taps the cue a few times, walking around to get a better view.

Charlotte doesn’t have a clue what she is doing.

“Like this,” Becky interrupts, helping Charlotte lean forward so that their bodies are pressed together. She slides a hand down the pool cue, rearranging Charlotte’s fingers at the end and ignoring the searing glare that Sasha is sending their way. “See?”

“I got it,” Charlotte turns, finding her and Becky almost nose to nose. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Excuse me,” Sasha cuts in, waving her hand around. “None of this at my pool table either.”

“I got this, Becks.” Charlotte smiles at her and Becky lets go, pinching a little at Charlotte’s hip when she steps away.

“She’s got this,” Becky murmurs to Bayley when she comes to a stop beside her.

“We’ll see,” Bayley says.

Charlotte does have it. The cue ball sails down the table, squarely hitting the yellow striped ball, knocking it into the corner. Another five follow after that and Becky isn’t really sure what the fuck is happening right now. Charlotte misses an easy black which allows Sasha in to clear up the rest of the table and win.

“You missed that on purpose,” Becky says when Charlotte comes to stand beside her, handing the cue to Bayley. “I know you did.”

“Did I?”

Becky moves closer, her hip now pressed firmly against Charlotte’s own. Her hand resting just above the waist band of Charlotte’s jeans on her back, fingers tracing endless patterns against the fabric of Charlotte’s top.

“You know you did.”

Charlotte throws Becky a fake glare before looking back at the table. “You have no proof.”

Becky clenches her teeth to stop the smile from bubbling up through her mouth. She sucks in a harsh breath and makes a face at Charlotte. “Just admit it.”

Charlotte's eyes roam over Becky's face and a smile creeps onto her lips. She places her hand on Becky’s arm, and slowly leans closer, until her lips are brushing against Becky's ear. “I let her win and if we ever play I’ll let you win too.”

\- 

They end up in Becky’s bedroom when they get home. 

“You ever think about me like this?” Charlotte’s eyes are intense as she removes her top.

All the time. Even when she shouldn’t be. The confession dies in Becky’s throat but maybe Charlotte catches it in her eyes because she gives Becky a shy smile.

“I think about you.”

“Yeah?” Becky’s voice is low.

Charlotte doesn’t respond with any words. Instead, she surges upwards to where Becky is settled in between her legs and takes Becky’s mouth in her own. She tugs at the bottom of Becky’s t-shirt when she leans back, helping Becky lift it over her head.

Moments pass. Long moments where nothing exists except them. Becky’s skin is smooth and pale over her chest and ribcage and stomach, and Charlotte wants to touch. Instead Becky leans down and kisses her again and it is slow and easy. Becky kisses her like she means it every single time.

Becky’s mouth finds her neck next, kissing up the length of it before she stops next to Charlotte’s ear. “I think about you all the time.”

Becky feels the thump of Charlotte’s pulse under her lips and it is addicting, so she presses another kiss there while she moves her hand from Charlotte’s hip, flattening her palm and letting it rest against Charlotte’s rib cage just at the edge of her bra.

Charlotte arches her back and lets a rough noise escape from somewhere at the back of her throat. Becky feels the flush press of Charlotte’s body against her own and she feels something click and then spread inside of her. It’s another piece of the puzzle - her and Charlotte’s puzzle – slotting into place without any real force at all.

Becky’s hooded look burns like an invisible grip around Charlotte’s throat, rendering her breathless and almost embarrassed, but Becky brings her out of it, encouraging Charlotte to come closer again.

Charlotte gets a little lost in Becky’s mouth after that. The way Becky’s tongue presses against her skin; the way Becky’s teeth sting without leaving a mark on her flesh; the way Becky kisses her with just enough effort that it allows this fluttery little noise to leave her lips so that Becky can catch it.

She even laughs when Becky awkwardly moves them, letting Charlotte hook her ankles over her lower back. Her hands immediately find the back of Becky’s neck, running her right hand through Becky’s hair.

Charlotte is stuck somewhere between the realisation that it is the most comfortable she has ever felt with anyone and that she is beginning to fall in love with the woman on top of her.

Becky isn’t really sure what happens next. She thinks Charlotte attempts to roll them over so that she can be on top but the wind is knocked out of her in the process. The pain in her side spikes inside of her quickly: a mess of sharp and dull and hot.

“Shit,” Charlotte says quickly, moving so that she isn’t putting any pressure on Becky at all. “Are you okay?”

“It’s alright,” Becky says, drawing in a breath and rolling onto her back. “I forget it’s there most of the time too.”

“Does it still hurt?”

“Nah, not really,” Becky says, “just when that kind of thing happens, it floors me… I do want to with you, y’know.”

“I know,” Charlotte says, scooting closer to where Becky is. “There’s no rush.” 

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” Becky asks. “I get the wind knocked out of me a little an’ it totally gets to me -”

“Nothing is wrong with you. Nothing at all.”

“Sometimes I wonder…” Becky starts, “if I will still fit in this world-” 

“You fit,” Charlotte interrupts quietly. “You fit with me.”

They lay in silence until Charlotte moves in closer, putting her head on Becky’s chest and pulling their clasped hands up to rest. “That’s comfier,” she says, tucking her head underneath Becky’s chin.

“Yeah,” Becky whispers, “it is.”

-

“You scare me, y’know.”

Charlotte barely hears Becky over the sound of the rain that’s throwing itself against the window outside, and she wonders if she was supposed to hear it at all.

“Why?”

“Cause I’m open with you,” Becky says, “an’ that makes me vulnerable.” She thinks about her time in the ring, how the message about always closing down was hammered into her head from the word go. How if you leave yourself open you’re leaving yourself vulnerable to a sucker punch that could take you out. “I let my guard down around you all the time an’ I can’t stop it.”

“Why not?”

Becky smiles and Charlotte sees it shining through the weak morning light.

“I dunno.”

“You’re still here though.”

“I know,” Becky whispers, “and that’s the thing, I’m willin’ to be open an’ vulnerable for you an’ it’s pretty fuckin’ scary.”

Becky’s declaration is so honest and terrifying that the words almost brand into Charlotte’s skin like fire. It feels like the sun has reached a part of Charlotte that has been in the shade for too long. Becky has given her something precious with her trust, this vulnerable admission.

“I feel that way about you too.” Charlotte takes the time to simply press up into Becky’s side, smiling when Becky’s arm curves around the small of her back.

Home isn’t a place, Charlotte decides.

Not in the literal sense anyway. Home is anywhere you want it to be as long as the people you love are with you.  
  


*****

Nattie stares at her, as if what she has said about Tyler is completely illogical. “Is he for real?”

“Oh absolutely,” Charlotte answers, clasping her hands around her coffee, drawing strength from its warmth. “He was very clear to me about that.”

“I always knew there was something off about him,” Nattie says, ignoring the look Charlotte gives her. “I’m sorry but I did. What are you going to do?”

“Standing up for myself and doing what I want for my own reasons is kind of hard,” Charlotte says, “I don’t know if I’m any good at it but I’m trying.”

“What did Becky say?”

“I haven’t… told her yet,” Charlotte replies cautiously. She has to be honest with herself, there’s no way she can erase the stain of guilt that this brings. “I’m afraid that if I tell her she will want to knock his head off.”

“I say let her,” Nattie murmurs with a shrug, “where is Becky anyway?”

“She’s doing something for the business with Finn. She’s getting cranky not having a work routine… it’s kind of weird not hearing from her for this long actually.”

“You know what they say,” Nattie mutters. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

Charlotte sighs. “If my heart gets any fonder it’s going to jump out of my chest and go find her.”

Charlotte can tell Nattie is choosing her next words carefully by the way she stares at her.

“Oh, wow. You’re falling for her.”

“What?” Charlotte’s first instinct is to draw back and deny it. But this is her best friend who she has shared many secrets with over the years of their friendship, and this is one that she can’t really deny any longer.

So Charlotte’s shoulders drop and then she says, “I’m falling for her.”

“Relax. There aren't any laws when it comes to your feelings, Charlotte,” Nattie says. “There isn’t a magical time frame where it is okay to fall for someone. Feelings don’t exactly play by the rules.”

“I know.”

“You’re not a terrible person, Charlotte. You’re allowed to be happy about a good thing happening to you.”

“I feel…” Charlotte trails off. She chews on the inside of her cheek before Nattie clears her throat. “Like there’s no going back with her.”

“Maybe there isn’t but maybe that’s the point.”

“You think?”

“You, of all people, deserve a happy ending. Despite everything that has happened, you aren’t bitter or cold. You just stressed and retreated a little and then you found someone to bring you back, someone to make you happy. Does Becky make you happy?”

“Yes.”

“Then that’s all that matters.” 

Nattie, Charlotte finds, is usually always right.

It’s kind of annoying.

*****

“So,” Dr Neilson says, opening Becky’s file on the screen in front of her and motioning for Becky to have a seat. “How have you been feeling?”

“Fine.”

“Really?”

“Tired more than usual I guess,” Becky admits, “I dunno why when I’m stuck inside doin’ nothin’ all day.”

There are a few clicks on the mouse as Dr Neilson rifles through some information before her attention and smile falls back onto Becky. She looks happy and Becky supposes that should be a good thing.

“I’m happy to clear you after this appointment,” Dr Neilson says. “Everything is as it should be and you’re healing exactly how we would like. I wouldn’t recommend doing anything too crazy immediately but I’m happy for you to get back into your normal routine. Go for a run, get back into work, that kind of thing.”

“So, I’m cleared?” Becky asks.

“Yes. You are cleared.”

“For everything?”

“Within reason, yes. Be sensible like you have been doing.”

“Fuckin’ finally.”

Dr Neilson leans back into her chair and interlaces her fingers over her chest. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Becky. Let’s not meet again too soon though. Deal?”

“Deal,” Becky says, reaching over to shake the doctor’s hand.

-

“Guess what?” Becky says as soon as Charlotte answers.

Charlotte tilts her head and looks out the window of her office. “What?”

“I’m cleared. Officially.”

“That’s great, Becks, fantastic actually.”

“Like, for _everythin’._”

“Oh…_ oh.”_

“Yep. I just wanted to let you know that it went good at the doctors,” Becky hums. “How’s your day been’?”

“I’m just wrapping everything up now,” Charlotte says, “do you want to get dinner?”

“Sure, I can pick up-”

“How about my place instead?” Charlotte asks.

“Alright, sounds good.”

An hour later Charlotte is on her back, eyes closed; Becky is on her side idly tracing circles over Charlotte’s hipbone that peeks out from underneath her shirt. Becky leans over and finds Charlotte’s lips with her own, quick and chaste.

“What are you thinking about?” Charlotte asks, she’s wearing that grin that Becky has become completely fond of.

Becky shrugs and then moves to pull away, but Charlotte braces her hands on the back of her neck to keep Becky anchored, just a few inches away from her mouth. Becky gazes at her and Charlotte feels herself being undressed, and she can’t help but love being desired like that – with no real contact at all.

Charlotte’s mouth presses against her own and every time they kiss, Becky finds herself falling a little deeper and it has nothing to do with the lust, it’s Charlotte. It’s her closeness and the way she feels soft under Becky’s hands and the subtle way her skin and perfume mix to create a scent that’s just Charlotte’s.

Charlotte kisses her slow and soft and sweet, and it still surprises Becky because she wondered if this would ever happen for her again, but it has, with Charlotte Flair of all people.

Charlotte’s hands lower to the bottom of Becky’s back, grasping at the thin cotton of her t-shirt, and she pulls it up ever so slightly to trace her fingers along the exposed bit of her stomach. Her hands move back up Becky’s spine, taking the shirt with them, and then when their lips break apart Charlotte pulls the t-shirt right off.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” is Becky’s simple reply, and she laughs before leaning in to kiss Charlotte again. It is more intense. Becky pulls Charlotte up towards her, her left arm wrapped around Charlotte’s back so that she can pull Charlotte’s top off in one fluid motion.

Something about Charlotte calls a piece of Becky away from her, it floats through the air and as Charlotte breathes in, Becky knows that part of her is going to stay with Charlotte forever now.

Becky would be lying if she said this isn’t exactly how she thought things would go tonight. In fact, she was banking on it. Her body pulses all over and when she settles back between Charlotte’s legs again and feels Charlotte’s body flush against her own she knows she is completely gone.

Charlotte brings her fingers up to run through Becky’s hair, letting her head fall back as Becky presses wet, open mouth kisses against her neck and collarbones and then her chest. She arches into Becky’s mouth, pulling gently against her hair to direct her.

“You want to taste me?” Charlotte murmurs.

Yes, Becky wants to taste her. She’d probably give up her right arm to taste Charlotte.

“No,” Becky lies.

Charlotte grins then, a full satisfied grin. It is hot, so hot that Becky feels the heat rising on her cheeks.

“Liar,” Charlotte whispers near Becky’s ear.

Fuck.

In this case she is a liar but Becky doesn’t want to dwell on it so she is glad when Charlotte guides her mouth back onto bare skin. It makes Charlotte’s insides feel like liquid. Red hot want swimming through her body and changing how it reacts. It coaxes and encourages her heart to beat faster, harder, even though it feels like everything else is going in slow motion.

Charlotte moves herself, her hips gently grinding against Becky’s stomach, and she can’t help the noises that escape her mouth every so often, these little wanting noises that Becky seems to respond to eagerly every time.

“Please, Becky.” Charlotte pulls Becky’s mouth back up to her own so she can speak directly into it. “I need you -”

“Patience,” Becky murmurs.

Becky takes her time undressing herself fully and then Charlotte, and Charlotte almost resents her for it. Becky’s good at this, so good at it. The languid slow kisses that began this have progressed into a rushed, heated mess.

Becky lets this feeling of having Charlotte in this way soak right into her bones. She wants this feeling to still be there when she is old. She has felt this real adrenaline rush before, much like the feeling she gets when she is anxious, but instead of anxiety it is warmth. She feels it pass through her like a hot ocean wave, washing away all her aches and pains and stresses.

And then when Charlotte looks at her, Becky knows. Becky knows that Charlotte wants her with her body. It is the anticipation of being together in a way that is more than words, in a way that is completely tangible.  
  
Becky’s throat works as she swallows and her eyes dance with a parade of emotions that Charlotte is struggling to keep up with. Heat. Need. Want. Attraction.

The light friction is torture but Charlotte doesn’t want to give up her position just yet, not when Becky is kissing her like this, not when they are pressed together so intimately.

“God,” Charlotte mumbles eventually.

A sudden, possessive thought fills Becky: Charlotte is hers now and Becky has to take good care of her.

“Where do you need me?”

Becky knows what she is doing – how could she not?

But Charlotte indulges anyway because she knows without any doubt that she doesn’t have any other choice. “Everywhere.”

-

Charlotte wakes up with Becky’s arms around her stomach and Becky’s naked body pressed against her back. And for the first time in a long time Charlotte isn’t aware of wanting anything but breakfast.

Well, breakfast and Becky, and not necessarily in that order.

Becky must feel her stir because there’s a “Mornin’” being murmured into her ear.

“Ten more minutes,” Charlotte says softly, as she turns around and buries her face in Becky’s neck.

Becky shivers as she feels and hears the words falling into the air.

“Ten more minutes, baby.”

“You shouldn’t call me that.” Charlotte looks up.

Becky tips her face towards Charlotte. “What?”

“Baby.”

Shit. She called Charlotte baby?

“Why not?” Becky asks, she is probably supposed to tell Charlotte that she’s hearing things.

“Because.. I like it.”

Becky stares at Charlotte and studies her face: her eyes, the bridge of her nose, the way her cheeks curve and blush, the pull of her lips, everything. This is the person that has captured Becky and holds her with an immense power she’s never really felt before.

It is love.  
  


*****

It has just passed midday and Becky’s whole body hurts. It is her first proper run since her injury and her lungs are burning at the exertion of it. Her right hamstring also feels tight and honestly, she has never been as glad to see her apartment building come into view as she is now. Despite being cleared by the doctor Finn has told her not to go back into work until next week and even then it will be a phased return.  
  
It is bullshit but whatever.

She has just pulled the door open when the shadow looms over her, sudden enough that it causes her to turn around almost automatically.

“Becky,” Tyler says, “how are you feeling?”

He is close enough that she can smell the heat of his cologne, lingering on him like a second suit. Becky wonders if he has an issue with personal space because he is standing far too close for her comfort, something he seems to sense quickly because he takes a step backwards to let her breathe.

“What are you doin’ here? How’d you even-”

Tyler waves off her comment. “You can find anything you want out these days.”

“Right,” Becky says, “but what do you want?”

“I haven’t been able to get in touch with Charlotte.” His voice has a gristly, coarse kind of twist to it now. “So I thought I’d get in touch with the next best thing.”

“An’ that’s me?”

“Well I’m here aren’t I? It’s about the offer I made to her,” he says, bring his hand up to rub at his jaw. “I don’t appreciate being ignored.”

His words rattle around in Becky’s head for a second as she tries to make some sense of them. What offer?

“Oh, she didn’t tell you did she?” Tyler asks, his voice is softer but the hardness in his face remains. “I think I made her as good an offer as she is going to get at this point given what she has been up to… with _you_.”

Becky snaps her head up towards him and she is struck with the sudden urge to throw a punch at him.

“I think you need to back the fuck off.”

There is a brief pause and Becky watches him sigh before he reaches into his pocket for his phone. She watches his fingers move against the screen and then the silence between them is filled with static noise that is quickly replaced by muffled voices that she recognises: Charlotte and Tyler. The recording lasts for a few minutes before it is abruptly cut off.

Both of them stand there in an uncomfortable silence for a moment, then Becky says, “Listen, you’re lucky we’re in the middle of the street where there are witnesses or you’d be spendin’ the rest of the day tryin’ to reattach your head.”

Tyler laughs but he never takes his eyes off of Becky, like there is a part of him that wonders if she really is going to take a swing at him. “I trust you will talk some sense into her.”

“Don’t fuckin’ push me if you know what’s good for you.”

“I’m under no illusions of your background, Becky,” Tyler says simply. “But would you really do that to Charlotte? To the club? I mean you are a _big _part of that now. Well… if you had known about it.”

There’s a flash of anger that filters through Becky but then it quickly becomes something else: upset, disappointment because he is right, she hadn’t had a clue about any of this.

“Let me ask you a question, Becky, do you have a habit of this?”

“What the fuck?”

“Fucking your clients or bosses,” Tyler states bluntly. He stares at her and there is something so callous about him. He puts a hand on Becky’s shoulder, and says, “It wouldn’t just be a scandal for Charlotte now, would it? It would be one for you too. And then that would bring Finn into it…”

“This has nothin’ to do with Finn.”

“I wouldn’t hire anyone who’s employees had a reputation for fucking around with women who are attached to other people. Not the best look for business, is it?”

Becky sees the anger in his face and suddenly she feels some of her own, burning away in the middle of her chest. It is a convenient camouflage for hurt because she feels that bubbling away under the surface of her skin too. She isn’t sure why Charlotte hasn’t told her any of this but it hurts that she hasn’t.

“I suggest you make Charlotte see sense,” Tyler mouths. “It would be in the best interest for the both of you. Because make no mistake, I’m not going away quietly.”

Becky swallows hard and tries to recover her voice. A second later, she is on him. She grabs Tyler by the collar, face contorted as she switches them and pushes him against the wall of the building. Fierce, violent anger erupts like a fault line. “Listen to me you piece of shit, I find out you’ve contacted her again, in any way, I’m comin’ for you.”

Tyler laughs quietly as he shakes his head at her. This is all part of his game, Becky realises a few seconds too late, to rile her up, to drive a wedge in between her and Charlotte. She lets go of him, pushing him back against the wall for good measure before she stalks into the building.

Her breathing is rough and ragged when she reaches her apartment, slipping inside quietly and then leaning against the door. She quietens after that, her eyes closed and her head bowed.

Becky had known getting involved with Charlotte would come with complications but here is a giant one, way ahead of schedule.  
  
She is good at shutting down when something like this happens. Her defences don’t care to debate too much about the issue. Dread twists and then coils into a nauseating ball of worry, the low level apprehension humming in her blood.

And she knows why.  
  
The air grows thick and heavy with emotions that somehow manage to drown out everything else around her.  
  
The only sounds that really resonate are the vigorous beats of her heart that punch painfully deep within her chest; the blood flowing thickly around her veins and into her ears. 

When someone is hurt or upset, old patterns of behaviour and mood emerge. It happens to everyone, and Becky isn’t an exception to the rule. So when Charlotte calls her an hour later Becky declines it.

She declines the second call from Charlotte too.

*****

Charlotte shifts on her feet as she knocks on Becky’s apartment door. After two days of radio silence it is time to bite the bullet and if Becky won’t come to her then… she had to come here. The door opens eventually and Becky looks out at her. She blinks a few times in Charlotte’s direction, like she is surprised to see her standing there.

“You better come in,” Becky says as she steps aside and allows Charlotte in. “I was gonna call-”

“But you didn’t and I haven’t heard from you in two days,” Charlotte finishes the sentence for her. “You want to tell me what is going on with you?”

A silence settles around them as they both look between each other, wondering who is going to make the first move. It is Becky who ends up taking the first step.

“Charlotte…” Becky’s voice sounds uneven, as if she hasn’t been totally ready for this particular conversation, as if all the things she had planned on saying to Charlotte – all the conversations that have played out in her head – are gone. “I need… I don’t think this is the right thing for us.”

There is a weight to everything when you try and walk away from someone.

Your mind, the dam that tends to protect your heart so well, cracks and leaks and with it comes the waves of everything you have shared with that person. The first time you met, the smiles, the laughs, the argument and even the kisses all play in a loop in your head like your own private viewing room.

When the waves retreat you’re left with the chaos it unfortunately creates and then abandons. The bruise that it leaves on your soul stays though, never fully disappearing, just yellowing so that over time it doesn’t hurt you every day.

Charlotte feels the panic rising in her then. She knows what is coming. She knows how quickly things can change. She hopes she is wrong. But she knows that she isn’t wrong, she knows that she is very much right and that everything is about to fall apart again.

“Is this a joke?”

“It wouldn’t be a funny one,” Becky answers quietly.

Charlotte digests the words but still seems reluctant to accept them.

“What has happened, Becky? This isn’t-”

“Look, I’m sorry.”

Happiness is the best thing in the world when you feel it or experience it, but it’s the strangest, most difficult thing when you don’t have it. It’s like a foreign language. You can think about what you want to say and you might even be able to speak a few words but you don’t really understand it or have a grasp on it.

Charlotte is still surprised by how quickly things can change despite the fact that she shouldn’t be by now.

“You’re sorry?” Charlotte repeats. “That’s not good enough, Becky. What the hell are you not telling me?”

Becky’s feelings for Charlotte are already wrapped around her heart, squeezing and making her ache where she stands.

Charlotte is staring at her with a pained, helpless expression and Becky doesn’t know how to make any of it stop. There isn’t anyway she can come out of this situation unscathed. There isn’t any way she can come out of this without hurting Charlotte or Finn, hell, even herself.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Charlotte,” Becky murmurs, “that’s not what I wanna do.”

“Then don’t,” Charlotte feels the tears begin to pool at the back of her eyes and she isn’t even embarrassed about it. “Just… please help me understand what is going on.”

Becky’s eyes are as cold as Charlotte has ever seen them and her features are immobile. She looks like someone who is about to vomit. Charlotte is trying to understand the words that Becky has said but she just can’t.

“So that’s it?” Charlotte yells, “you just don’t want me anymore?”

“It isn’t… it isn’t gonna work.”

When Becky takes a step back the distance between them feels chilly and infinite, a heartbeat from everything she wants. Like rubbing salt into an open wound.

“Bullshit,” Charlotte croaks. She runs her hand through her hair before she presses her palms to her eyes. It is like she can’t even look at Becky anymore. “You’re lying to me.”

“I’m not.” It is a lie with so much force that Becky’s teeth ache.

Charlotte’s smile is watery and her lips tremble, and she can’t help but feel the sinking feeling in her chest. “You are. We both know it.”

“You should go.”

“Becky, look at me.”

Becky does but it is difficult now, Becky can’t remember a time when she didn’t want to look at Charlotte’s face, it has been so long. She blinks, trying to force the torrent of tears back where they came from but it’s impossible. She is bursting at the seams.

“You don’t need to do this.”

Becky shakes her head. “I do. Gettin’ involved with me isn’t worth it, Charlotte. Isn’t worth any of it.”

“What does that even mean?” Charlotte asks.

Charlotte begins to blur in and out of Becky’s focus, the tears staying resolute without falling. “Just means what I said.”

“Becky, I lo -”

“Don’t say it,” Becky whispers harshly. “Please don’t say that.”  
  
“Why not?” Charlotte demands loudly. “So I’m nothing to you now? You’re so full of shit, Becky! I know that I matter to you. I know that I’m important to you. I know that there’s something between us.” 

Charlotte knows that everyone is just trying to be happy and that most of their actions or words – regardless of how misguided they are – are in line with that aim. Most people just want to be loved, to feel like they have a place in the world with someone or at least be important to someone.

Somehow this doesn’t seem to be the case for Becky right now.

“Becky, come on.”

This time Becky’s voice betrays her, and a ripple passes through it. “I can’t. You need to leave.”

For the first time in Becky’s life she feels like a coward. She chooses to turn around so that she doesn’t have to watch Charlotte leave. She hears her footsteps on the floor and she hears the choked cry Charlotte lets out as she closes the apartment door shut.

It hurts.

Charlotte feels like a loss, a huge gaping void.

It feels like concrete drying in her chest. This heartbreak is unexpected, as they usually are – on top of the world one day and cut down the next. Why does it happen like that?

Becky’s lungs burn in their need for air and tears clog her eyes and her throat and her nose. She stands for a few minutes allowing the feeling to sweep clean through her so that she feels it all because she deserves the pain of this.

It really does hurt.  
  


*****  
  


The feeling sits on Charlotte like a pillow over her mouth and nose. There is enough oxygen that gets by it, allowing her body to keep functioning as normal but it is crippling at the same time.

It’s like when you’re swimming and the sun is shining and you’re having a great time but then a harsh wave comes and sucks you under into the darkness of the water. And it doesn’t matter how hard you try to reach the surface, a new wave comes and knocks you back under again.

There is something to be said for standing outside a bar on a weekday night nursing heartache. It is the sort of cliché thing you see a protagonist do in movies or on TV shows, but this isn’t any sort of media drama and Charlotte most definitely isn’t any protagonist.

But bad things happen to everyone. Everyone shares that experience – everyone suffers at some point. No one leaves this world without feeling pain, or shedding tears or dipping your toes into the pool of pity.

She has a feeling this probably isn’t the best idea she’s ever had but things really couldn’t be worse right now so why not? She feels out of place as soon as she steps in the door. It is different being here alone without Becky because she sticks out like the proverbial sore thumb. There are a few seats available at the end of the bar and she makes a beeline for them. She sits herself down at the very end one so that no one can really sit beside her.

“Blondie,” Sasha says as soon as she sees Charlotte, “are you lost?”

She slides a small-glassed drink over towards Charlotte and Charlotte can tell that it is going to burn on the way down. It isn’t something she would usually pick, it actually looks like something Becky would choose instead. She picks it up, draining the drink in one gulp and while it does burn Charlotte finds she doesn’t really notice it all that much.

Charlotte slides the glass back along the bar towards Sasha, removing her jacket and folding it over her lap. “Have you heard from Becky recently?”

“Not really, should I have? Is everything okay?”

A rush of heat rockets up Charlotte’s neck and into her face. She shakes her head, swallowing, even though her mouth has gone completely dry. “No,” she says, and this time she can’t hold back the tears. “No, it’s definitely not okay.”

As much as she tries to hold it in, the pain comes out like an uproar from her throat in the form of silent sobs. The beads of water start falling down one after another, with no sign of stopping. Charlotte has never learned how to cry with any sort of style. She looks down at her hands as if they can soothe her and there is static in her head.

“Ah shit,” Sasha murmurs, “Billie, can you take over here? I need a break. Come on, let’s go, sweetheart.”

Charlotte allows Sasha to tug at her hand, pulling her off the stool and guiding her towards a room at the back of the bar. It is a small and stuffy room that looks like it rarely gets used but it has a couple of sofas in the corner, a few cupboards overhead and a table near a fridge to sit at. There’s also a kettle plugged in near a sink. It’s clearly just essentials only.

Sasha drags Charlotte in for a messy hug before she sits down at the table. It is one that clearly hasn’t been practiced or been given much thought. She just sort of bundles Charlotte into her arms and Charlotte basically lets her. She sinks into the warmth of Sasha, appreciating the simple gesture.

“Do you need anything?” Sasha asks when she pulls away from Charlotte, nodding at the table for Charlotte to take a seat. “A drink is no trouble.”

“No,” Charlotte answers, “I don’t think that would be wise.”

“You wanna tell me what’s going on then?”

Charlotte starts at the beginning and tells Sasha about Tyler and his offer.

“… I thought he was bluffing so I’ve just ignored him. Tyler has always been full of -”

“Shit?” Sasha offers.

Nodding, Charlotte gives her a smile. “Yeah. He wasn’t always like that if you can believe it. I was careful with Becky, nothing serious happened until I broke up with him.”

“I can’t believe it. But honestly, he has that look about him.” Charlotte shoots Sasha a look. “What? Sorry but he does. You’re a smart woman, Charlotte, how’d you not see it?”

Charlotte lets out a huff and shrugs. “We all make mistakes, don’t we?”

“I’ll say.”

“Then a few days ago Becky goes radio silent on me,” Charlotte explains quietly, “so I went over to her place to talk about it and…”

“And?”

“She basically said we weren’t working and she broke up with me.” Closing her eyes Charlotte clears her head. “Out of nowhere, just like that.”

“_She did_ _what?_”

The confusion on Sasha’s face is evident and it is clear that she really does have no idea about what has happened over the last few days. Becky obviously hasn’t told her which is another major red flag for Charlotte. She feels tears welling in her eyes again but she doesn’t let them fall.

“Is this a joke?” Sasha asks as she stands and goes to the cupboard, reaching in for two glasses and a bottle. Charlotte has already swallowed hers by the time Sasha pours out her own. Thankfully Sasha isn’t miserable and pours Charlotte another generous drink. “No, seriously, are you joking?”

Charlotte laughs lightly, enough so that a hint of emptiness rings. “No joke. You’re only the second person I’ve told after Nattie, I don’t think anyone else would understand the situation too well.”

“Well duh, I’m involved with you both now,” Sasha says with a roll of her eyes.

The quiet settles back over them, neither moving, just sipping at their drink. Charlotte watches her; she watches Sasha’s foot tap out a rhythm against the floor like she is thinking some things through.

After a moment Sasha speaks up, “I don’t get it. Last time I spoke to her she was happy, I’m just as surprised by this as you are.”

Charlotte shakes her head, taking another sip of her drink. “Maybe the notion of me wore off or something.”

“Bullshit,” says Sasha immediately. “Are you blind? Did you not see how she was with you the other night? I’ve never seen Becky that happy before... and the way she looks at you…”

“I don’t know what else to tell you, Sasha.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything else, I already know Becky can be an idiot at times.”

A lopsided smile spreads across Charlotte’s mouth. Just tugging at the corner of her lips but never growing any further.

“I’m not surprised you and her are best friends. The more I get to know you the more I see it…”

Charlotte pauses and Sasha steps in. “I was her first friend in San Fran. She looked like a lost puppy when she came here, she even tried to pick me up when I met her.”

It’s an attempt to break the melancholy tension that has filled the room and it works because Charlotte finds herself grinning.

“No way?”

“Are you honestly surprised?,” Sasha replies jokingly, “I mean _look _at me.”

Charlotte gives Sasha a dramatic eye roll before breaking into gentle laughter. “Becky does not strike me as a pick up line person.”

“She’s obviously not,” Sasha laughs with her, “but it was a nice try.”

“I’m sorry I showed up,” Charlotte says, “I was kind of hoping she would be here. I’m not sure what I expected.”

“I’m glad you did.” Sasha reaches across to put her hand over Charlotte’s own, squeezing gently. “I really don’t get it… you don’t think Tyler has anything to do with it?”

“How though?”

“I don’t know,” Sasha sighs, “but he seems like a scheming asshole, Charlotte.”

“I know. I don’t know what to do, Sasha. I miss her.” Charlotte blows her cheeks out. “I just wish I understood.” 

“We’ll figure it out but first, finish your drink so I can pour you another one.”

Charlotte isn’t sure she ever saw this coming: her and Sasha having a drink, indulging in her deepest and darkest problems but here she is doing exactly that.

And the funny thing about it is, it’s comfortable. She can see herself becoming good friends with Sasha if given the chance because she knows she’s grown on Sasha in the same way.

Charlotte stays at the bar for a few hours - Sasha taking her back out front a while later – and Charlotte wonders if maybe she doesn’t stick out so much because everyone who is in the bar is clearly welcome by Sasha and that includes her now too.

*****

The sound of her phone ringing cuts through the quiet of her apartment like thunder ripping through the sky and Becky is tempted to throw the thing out the damn window.

Instead she picks it up with a sigh instead of a greeting – mistake number one.

“You wanna tell me what the fuck is going on with you, Becky?”

“I guess Charlotte has been in touch with you,” Becky answers with another sigh. “It ain't what you think.”

“Oh? It’s not?,” Sasha fires back. “You leave her high and dry with not so much as an explanation? That’s not you, Becky-”

“Listen,” Becky cuts in – mistake number two.

“No, you listen to me,” Sasha says. “You act like a bitch then I’m gonna call you a bitch, and right now, you’re acting like a bitch.”

There is an awkward silence and Becky gets lost in her thoughts again. She glances down at the empty pizza box that is being kept company by empty beer bottles. She can feel the heartburn already spreading in her chest – mistake number three.

“I think I made a mistake,” Becky murmurs. “A really big mistake.”

“Oh, I think you’ve made several,” Sasha replies. “Now, you wanna tell me what the fuck is going on?”

“Yeah,” Becky says, “you better come over tomorrow. It’s a mess, Sash.”

Fate, Becky has discovered, isn’t a straight path, there are twists and turns in it, and different routes to different destinations. She has the free will to choose which path she wants to take.

What Becky has realised over the past few days is that the path she wants to take always includes Charlotte.


	11. if you’re rough and ready for love, honey i’m tougher than the rest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We hope that everyone is doing well. This chapter was an interesting one to write. Thanks for reading, we hope you enjoy this chapter. It is rated M. k byyeeeeee *runs away*

Becky stands at her apartment window, hand in her pocket, staring down at the park underneath. She doesn’t really feel anything, only a strange sensation that what she and Charlotte have – had - is bigger than she probably realised. The recognition of that rips through her but she keeps it to herself.

“You’re an idiot.”

Sasha’s words ring out and Becky tries not to feel the embarrassment they bring because, yes, she is well aware that she is sometimes an idiot.

“I know. I fucked up,” Becky says, looking over her shoulder.

“Understatement. Becky, what the fuck were you thinking?”

Becky sighs before she turns and looks in Sasha’s direction. “I wasn’t. Y’know what I’m like, sometimes I do stuff before I think. I was tryin’ damage limitation.”

“For who exactly? You?”

“Nah.”

Becky knows that sometimes when you do something impulsive like this you end up hurting yourself more than anyone else.

“Are you okay?”

Becky doesn’t really know how to answer the question so she simply avoids it. “Do you want a drink or somethin’?”

“Becky, can you just come here and sit.”

Becky sinks down into the couch beside and puts her head in her hands. The feeling drains through her like dirty water rather than skimming over her skin, cold and unending. It ends up like a black mist that settles inside of her and refuses to shift.

“He’s goin’ to try and ruin her, Sasha,” Becky says eventually, “especially if I’m still around.”

“So, what?” Sasha asks, “you really think he would just go away if you weren’t around? You aren’t that stupid.”

Becky tries to smile but her eyes flood instead. “I didn’t have anything before I came here.” Becky shrugs. “Now I have her. I have people I care about. People I want to protect. Everythin’. But when you have everythin’ you can lose it all too.”

“It didn’t matter who Charlotte ended up doing this with, she was never going to end up with _ him.” _Sasha gives Becky a look. “And he was never going to just go away.”

“I don’t think she gets what she means to me an’ now she probably hates me. I’ve spent the last two years wallowin’ in self pity, thinking I’m no good for anybody, an’ maybe at times it’s been true -”

“Can you stop?”

“Nah, just listen. Spending the day with her or the night with her, it’s like… Charlotte just makes me believe that I’m not a failure or a lost cause, that my life is messy an’ I had a few set backs but it’s still worth sharing, y’know?”

“Don’t worry about being good enough, Becky, you already are,” Sasha argues. “Just worry about being happy. Whoever makes you happy is who is good enough for you.”

“I was just tryin’… to help everyone not get hurt, y’know?” Becky asks. “And I fucked it up.”

“You think?” Sasha rolls her eyes.

“Alright, I get it.”

“No,” Sasha argues. “That woman came to my bar to find _ you _ because she loves you. Charlotte _ loves _you and she obviously wants to fight for what you guys have but she can’t be the only one in the fucking ring, Becky.”

Becky can feel the heat growing in her cheeks, it sears through her skin and for a moment she feels like her face is on fire. She feels awkward and guilty and embarrassed; she even attempts to hide her rosy features behind her hands.

“Get over the embarrassment of what's happened,” Sasha says instantly, “it’s never killed anybody. But if you feel how Charlotte does and we both know that you do then you need to tell her, fuck Tyler. You’re both stronger fighting this together.”

“It’s… I dunno. Complicated?”

Sasha puts her hand on Becky’s shoulder. “It was always going to be complicated with Charlotte, but you knew that and you still got involved.”

“I didn’t get you an’ Bayley at first,” Becky confesses after a quiet minute, “it seemed like a weird fit. You’re really different people but I see it an’ it works, an’ now I get it.”

“I didn’t get it either,” Sasha admits, “but sometimes you just meet someone and you don’t get it and it’s scary. But once you get to know them, it’s easier to understand and you wonder why you worried in the first place.”

Becky nods and runs her hand through her hair. “When I told Charlotte to leave it seemed like a good idea, the next minute it didn’t but I couldn’t go runnin’ after her with my tail between my legs. I’m too stubborn, y’ know that -”

“You’re really telling _ me _that you’re stubborn?”

“I don’t have a clue what I’m doin’, Sasha, you gotta help me.” The loss of Charlotte is more than a phantom pain or a hollowed out point in her chest. It fills Becky to her limits, pressing down with real pressure.

“Okay, let me ask you this, do you love her?”

Becky sighs and lowers her head, burying her face in her hands.

Does she love Charlotte? The silent answer is a hot ache from her head to her toes, filling and pushing against her ribs. And the dormant urge to make Charlotte permanent in her life roars noisily in her chest, like a dragon being cut loose from chains.

“Yeah.”

“Then you gotta tell her,” Sasha says. “Own this love, Becky. It’s not just Charlotte’s. It’s yours too.”

*****

_ Becky’s apartment is inevitably in the dark when Charlotte drops her off. It reminds her that she isn’t going home to someone or something. Despite the hour, Charlotte beeps the horn as her car disappears out of view but it doesn’t dull the new ache in Becky’s chest. _

_ Something has changed between them today. They are tip toeing on a thin line that feels like it could be easily crossed and that probably doesn’t bode well for the both of them. _

_ Becky tosses her phone onto the kitchen counter as soon as she gets inside her apartment, shedding her jacket as she makes her way through to the bedroom to get changed. She pauses when she shimmies out of her jeans, watching as the earphones roll over on the floor where they have fallen out of her pocket. _

_ Becky frowns. _

_ The earphones have a little Alcatraz logo on the bud of them and she had all but forgotten that they were in her pocket. She bends down and lifts them, rolling them gently between her fingers so that the cable doesn’t get tangled up. _

_ Blood begins to flow in her face, at first cautiously, as if it is embarrassed by its own appearance; a small smattering of red that is exploring its new terrain on her cheeks. Then it flows faster, steadily staining her face a bright tomato red colour because she knows exactly why she put those earphones in her pocket. _

_ There is a benign pain in her chest that surges outwards, slipping underneath her ribs and leaking into her lungs. Feelings are like your appendix, Becky decides where she is standing, pretty useless on the whole but sometimes it can make you feel quite uncomfortable. _

_ The more she stares down at the earphones the more the gathering of thoughts in her head collide together. She moves and puts the earphones into one of the drawers where her clothes are, tucking them down so that they are out of sight – even for her. _

_ Her burgeoning feelings for Charlotte come through like waves meeting the sand on the shore. She can stand there looking out at the water but Becky is sorely tempted to dip her toes into the water and let her feet get wet. _

_ Thoughts of Charlotte continue to come in waves and Becky is struggling to swim these days. _

_She really is in deep trouble._

*****

Becky stares down at her hands, clenching and unclenching them as if doing so will hold back the inner turmoil that’s raging around inside of her. Despair rolls into the room and it comes off of her in powerful waves, crashing into the quiet of her office. 

Charlotte’s file sits in front of her, now closed after another read through. 

She leans forward, placing her elbows on the desk and rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands. She reaches for her coffee cup, but it has long gone cold. Her thoughts imagine it would be peaceful and quiet inside the paperweight on her desk. She could just float in it suspended in beauty, surrounded by stillness and colour. No noise. Just safety.

She must catch Finn’s eye at the last second because he has almost walked past her office when he back pedals and pops his head around her office door. “What are you doin’ here at this time?”

Becky sighs and leans back on her chair. “It’s a long story.”

Finn has an intrusive gaze and a quiet confident manner that tends to strip away the layers of defence that Becky usually has around people. When he sits down in the chair across from her and then wheels it towards her, she knows this is going to be a long conversation.

“I thought it might be when I find you in the office at this time when you ain’t been here in months,” Finn says.

Becky blinks at the bluntness of Finn’s statement, but eventually smiles when Finn does. “I need to tell you somethin’ an’ it’s bad.”

“Are you sick?”

“Nah.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Nah.”

“Has anyone died?”

“What?” Becky frowns. “No.”

“Then it can’t be that bad,” Finn says. “You look like shit though.”

“I feel like shit too. Look like shit, feel like shit, I’m in a world of shit.”

“Then you better tell me what’s goin’ on, Becky.”

Becky takes a breath, stealing some time. She doesn’t know where to start to be honest. She is hurt that Charlotte didn’t tell her about Tyler and shut her out of it. She is worried that she has ruined her and Charlotte beyond repair. She is angry that Tyler has somehow managed to do this to them already. She is afraid that she has lost Charlotte for good. 

How do you possibly find a place to start?

“Charlotte and I were involved… with each other,” Becky says. “I know I should have told you before this but... I dunno.”

Sitting back on the chair, Finn clasps his hands across his chest. “I dunno why you think I’d be surprised at that. I noticed at the hospital, I ain’t blind or stupid.”

“I know.”

“You do know I have to pull you from the assignment when you return to work, you can’t work with her. It’s a conflict of interest an’-”

“I know,” Becky interrupts. “It’s fine. It doesn’t matter anyway, I fucked it up.”

Finn’s head drops back as a grumble escapes his throat. “How?”

Becky’s eyes drift back onto the paperweight and the room falls quiet. She pulls her left foot onto her right knee and lets her right foot bounce against the floor. She starts to talk and it seems to take forever for her to stop.

That’s the problem with having someone like Finn, he lulls Becky into a safe sense of security and before she knows it she is spilling her guts all over the place.

“I don’t need a lecture about this, I’ve already had one from Sasha,” Becky states when she finishes. “I know I probably deserve another one but just… don’t.”

“You’re in deep with Charlotte, huh?” Finn asks.

“Drownin’.”

“You can’t get involved with Tyler,” Finn says. “That can’t be your fight as much as you might want it to be.”

“I know. But he’s tryin’ to ruin me too. My reputation-”  
  
“Isn’t going to be wrecked by some jealous ex of Charlotte’s.”   
  
“I hope you’re right, Finn.”

“I know you’re hurting,” Finn voices. “So you may as well make it worth it.”

“How?”

“By fighting. By holding your hands up and saying you made a fuck up of things and hope Charlotte forgives you.”

“I… never expected her, Finn,” Becky admits quietly, pushing the words past the lump in her throat. “I wasn’t prepared to need her this much.”

Sometimes people sneak up on you and you wonder how you ever lived without them in your life. How you got through your day without talking to them or hearing them laugh or went about your daily routine without having that really important person in your life.

Finn puffs out his cheeks, almost exasperated at her and then says, “There isn’t enough love in the world that you can turn it away when it’s offered to you on a plate. You know that.”

Becky’s eyes narrow. “But?”

“No but,” Finn says. “You’re my best friend and sometimes you can be…”

“Difficult?” Becky offers.

“Sure, let's go with that.”

Becky tries not to laugh. “Shut it with the sarcasm.”

“Sarcasm is great,” Finn states. “Just say anythin’ an’ pretend you’re joking and most people think you’re being funny when you’re just being a dick.”

“I know, I got that skill from you.”

A few minutes pass with them keeping their thoughts to themselves. Then Finn stands and reaches a hand on Becky’s shoulder. “No lecture but stop feelin’ sorry for yourself. Get off your ass and fix this if that’s what you want and if you don’t then walk away.”

Becky manages to fight off the tears burning at the corners of her eyes. “I dunno if I can walk away.”

“Then you know what to do. Come here.”

Becky stands and Finn wraps his arms around her, and she fights to keep herself together. She fails and she aches every time she cries. Finn holds her there, encouraging her to let it out, reassuring her that she can fix this if she really wants to.

And she does want to fix it. 

People hurt each other all the time even when they don’t mean to. What matters when you hurt someone though is that you do whatever you can to make it right.   
  
“Hey, come on, don’t cry.” 

“Been a long time since we did this over a woman,” Becky murmurs in response.

“I know,” Finn agrees gently, “that’s why I’m tellin’ you to get off your ass and fix it.”

*****

Charlotte is tired.

She must have heard her name a thousand times already today.

And she has barely registered any of them.

From business calls to calls from her lawyers regarding an ex who just doesn’t know when to fucking quit. Tyler is still hanging around like a noose around her neck and Charlotte is beginning to run out of patience with him.

The small mercy of it all is that it keeps her mind off of Becky, at least for a little while.

The feeling of Becky starts at the bottom of her stomach and grows with every passing hour. It is like she is watering a powerful flower every day so that it just grows stronger and stronger until it blooms in her lungs and makes her breathless. It knocks her appetite and means she can’t sleep and it’s honestly painful like most heartache tends to be.

Sasha has been in touch with her every day and Charlotte is beyond grateful for the new found support. When her phone beeps a few minutes later she expects it to be Sasha’s name that flashes up on her screen but it isn’t.

It’s Becky’s name instead and Charlotte’s heart swells and her stomach sinks all at once. Fierce relief and pain tangled all in one inside of her.

Before she can open the message there is a knock and then her office door is pushed open and Dana breezes in. She is holding up a paper bag in one hand and a coffee cup in the other. “I know you said no interruptions this afternoon but this just arrived for you.”

“What?”

“Yeah, it got dropped off specifically to me to give to you a minute ago.”

“From who?” Charlotte asks.

Dana rubs the side of her neck the way she always does when she feels unsure about a situation. “I’ll just leave them here,” she says as she puts the bag and cup on Charlotte’s desk.

“Dana,” Charlotte says just before Dana reaches the door. “Is… is this from Becky?”

Dana’s face moves slowly like she is processing what Charlotte has just asked her, then she smiles and gives Charlotte a tiny nod. “If you need anything else just let me know.”

When the door shuts Charlotte reaches for the coffee first and takes a sip. She winces at how hot it is and yet soon she can’t help the smile that spreads across her face as if there is nothing wrong at all.

Life can be funny like that. You can be hurting and aching and yet something as simple as a good cup of coffee can make you feel like all your troubles have gone away.

A small selection of Charlotte’s favourite pastries are in the bag with a note that has been hand written and then folded over. Charlotte hasn’t seen much of Becky’s handwriting before but it is pretty, the shapes of the letters are strong and written with purpose: _I’m an idiot._ _I can’t expect your forgiveness but I can hope for it. Can we talk? If not I get it. You deserved better. I’m sorry, Charlie._

Charlotte feels like crying.

And she does.

Tears stream down her face and splash onto her hand and it takes her brain a moment to catch up to the fact that she is actually crying over coffee and pastries. The sadness swarms over her and she tells herself that it is okay to feel like this. It is okay to let those emotions take a hold of her right now.

Charlotte folds the short letter back over and puts it into her desk drawer. She lifts her phone and opens the message from Becky. It is a simple ‘_ I hope the order was okay for you.’ _

Charlotte bites down on her lip until it hurts and types out a few responses that are promptly deleted as she sits her phone back onto her desk. This is ridiculous. She wipes away her tears with the back of her hand and digs her heels in.

Becky is going to have to work harder than that.

She replies to Becky’s text a few hours later saying _ ‘thank you for the coffee’. _

*****

The sun is now on its deathbed, bruising the sky with burnt oranges and deep purples. Charlotte stands on the balcony overlooking the city below her, watching as it begins to light up and grow dimmer at the same time. Guided by a gust of wind which has strengthened substantially over the last few minutes, the cluster of heavy clouds above are about to thicken into a cotton blanket of dark blue.

She hasn’t spoken to Becky properly in weeks.

There have been more lunch orders, more handwritten notes and texts from her though and Charlotte can tell that Becky means it every time she says sorry, she can feel it somehow.

Forgiveness has come in stages for Charlotte over the last few weeks.

Stage one: deciding that she was going to forgive Becky in the first place. There are certain things and certain people that you can’t walk away from, not really. Not if you want to be able to live with yourself and your choice afterward.

Stage two: Charlotte thinks that Becky understands exactly what she has done wrong and Charlotte knows Becky. She knows that Becky is as deep as the ocean and will be hurting just as much as she is. She also accepts Becky’s own admission that she can be a bit of an idiot at times.

Stage three: Charlotte simply believes in them. They can’t go backwards, they can only go forwards and maybe they need to wipe the slate clean but that is okay. They are both human and therefore they are messy: they are going to fuck up and make mistakes together but that is okay too because sometimes it can lead to relationships becoming more defined and deeper.

Mostly Charlotte misses her. She misses the way that Becky is a calming influence on her and the way that Becky notices things that most people wouldn’t, like when Charlotte is stressed or tired or needs a coffee injection or a stupid pun joke.

Becky has taken the time to understand little nuances about Charlotte that no one else has really paid attention to. Becky makes her heart flutter in a way that she has never felt before – it feels like a constant thrumming under her skin; a constant hum that Charlotte can’t seem to shake off and she doesn’t really want to anyway because she knows it would be worse not to feel it anymore.

Charlotte doesn’t believe in love at first sight and never has. But she believes in that click. She believes that every once in a while you are drawn to someone so immediately and sometimes you don’t really know why but you are.

And that is what she has with Becky and she knows that Becky feels it too. Charlotte has felt it every time Becky has held her or held her hand and seemed reluctant to let it go.

You see, our hands are like our whole world.

We do everything with our hands; we create; and we talk; and we gesture; and we build. We can do simple things with our hands and we can do great things with our hands. We use our hands for almost everything.

And despite all of the things that we can do with our hands, sometimes we choose to hold another person. It is like we are saying: you are the most important thing to me right now, you are my whole world, and you are who I want to create with and talk with and build with.

That is what Charlotte feels with Becky and why sometimes you have to give second chances because sometimes people genuinely deserve them. The phone rings twice before Charlotte hears her voice: “Charlotte? Hi. Are you alright?” Becky’s tone is gentle and warm, much like Charlotte is used to.

“Becky, we need to talk. I need to… I want to see you.”

Becky stays quiet on the line for longer than Charlotte likes, and it tugs at something in Charlotte’s chest. “Alright. Where?”

“My place. Now if you’re free?” Charlotte hears a sigh on the other end.

“Yeah, I’m free,” Becky says, “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

-

As always, Becky is a woman of her word and arrives half an hour after hanging up the phone.

Charlotte opens the door and the first thing she notices is that Becky’s hair is different. It is straight and loose around her shoulders, like she has put effort into it. She’s wearing a white shirt, a denim jacket, ripped jeans and boots, and only Becky could make such a plain outfit look so good.

Charlotte can’t help but smile at the sight of her. It is not fully blown because she doesn’t allow herself to do that but it is there all the same, pulling at her cheeks and lips. Charlotte aches to reach out and touch her. She sees Becky trying to fight back a nervous smile too but she also fails.

They stare at each other for a moment before Becky bursts the little bubble that they are in and she breathes out with a smile, “Charlie.”

Becky’s voice seems to bring Charlotte’s thoughts to the fore.

And there are a lot of thoughts right now… thoughts running through her mind at the sight of Becky. The way the white shirt clings to her in just the right way and the way her jacket fits tight around her strong, lithe shoulders. It is distracting.

And Becky’s smile? Well, Becky’s smile shows her relief growing, much like a flower opens in bloom. Charlotte can see how it emerges from deep inside to light up her eyes and every part of her face, and Charlotte begins to realise that maybe a person smiles with more than their mouth.

“Come in,” Charlotte says.

“Before I do,” Becky clears her throat. “I just wanna say that I’ve been an idiot an’… I’ve missed you.”

Becky’s words are filled with affection. Charlotte knows what affection is because she has read about it and she has seen it but this time she is the one who can feel it. There is a sense of connection and belonging and safety when it comes to Becky, a desire to give for all the right reasons and for Charlotte, that has to be affection.

It isn’t just what Becky says though, her words are like a warm dessert, sweet in the ordinary kind of way, it is the truthfulness in her tone – comforting, like when you step through the front door after a long day.

“I fucked up an’ I hurt you, I know that. But I know it won’t happen again… hurtin’ you, I mean, cause I’m probably going to fuck up again. I’m so sorry.” Becky’s fingers reach around Charlotte’s wrist and her voice drops low, and when Becky looks back up towards her Charlotte can see the shine of unshed tears. “I promise, it won’t happen again.”

Becky’s nerves are beginning to get the better of her and she can’t focus on what she really wants to say because she is afraid. Becky is afraid of what she feels. But is that the only reason it is so hard to admit to Charlotte right now? Or is she afraid that Charlotte doesn’t feel the same anymore? Yeah, she is definitely afraid of that because Charlotte has softened her in ways that it is hard to imagine. It is also so unexpected that it still startles Becky. Charlotte has smoothed out her rough edges and helped shape her into a better person.

You see, we all change – everyone. The reasons for the change are different though. Some people change because they want to and therefore choose to, some people change because they don’t really have any choice and sometimes it is neither; it is because someone has come along and you know nothing is ever going to be the same again.

“I know. Come on,” Charlotte says, tugging on Becky’s hand with her own. She leads them through the living room and onto the balcony.

The view of Oakland Bay Bridge lit up is incredible. The boats off in the distance look randomly scattered like leaves on the surface of the water; the lights cover the full length of the bridge serenading the night with an eruption of colour, and the city itself acts as the ultimate backdrop. Becky leans against the railing and just breathes it all in as she tries to collect herself.

They take in the view for a few moments. The distant sounds of the city are all but drowned out by the music coming from the lounge a few floors down. Becky thinks it sounds like ‘Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic by The Police, and it all seems a tad ironic considering things.

Charlotte is the one who finally breaks the quiet between them. She knows you can jump in with both feet first or you can go forward slowly. There are positives to both of them. You jump in feet first and it is all over quickly; you go forward slowly and it isn’t.

She decides to just jump right in because sometimes you think that a certain path in your life is the one you need to take. You see other signs and other routes but you stay away from them because you think they are not for you, that you might get lost or hurt.

And maybe that is true; maybe you will get lost or get hurt.

But sometimes fate sets in, and someone takes your hand or you meet someone out of the blue, and you need to step off that path you were on. And sure, it’ll be scary and it’ll be new, but somehow you will find your feet and you will know how to navigate it.

And then you will probably find that this new path leads you to the destination that you were always meant to end up at in the first place.

“I don’t understand why but nobody gets me like you do,” Charlotte confesses quietly. And her confession matches where they are standing: it is bright and bold and honest. Becky turns and looks at her then, her eyes scanning Charlotte’s face. “It scares me, Becks. It actually scares the shit out of me. To feel how I feel. To want you in all the ways I want you.”

“I was scared too.”

Becky feels Charlotte shift beside her, before she puts her chin onto her palm and turns her head towards Becky.

“You?” Charlotte asks, “I didn’t know that was possible.”

Becky smiles and then shoves at Charlotte with her free hand. “Shut up.”

There’s another moment of quiet before Charlotte gives in. “What were you afraid of?”

“You.”

Everyone is afraid of it.

Love and pain are like invisible paths in your life. They are always around you but you can’t touch them, and you can’t hear them, and you can’t even taste them but you can certainly feel them. They float around in the air like something tangible.

But the good news is that you can usually pick which path you want to take a wander down and - maybe more importantly - you can usually pick who you want to take that wander with.

Becky brings a hand up to Charlotte’s face and rests it on her cheek, Becky’s thumb sweeps across her cheekbone and Charlotte feels like she wants to do something silly like cry. “Please forgive me, Charlie.”

Charlotte closes her eyes and leans into Becky’s touch. “I do. But you ever do this to me again, Becky and -”

“I won’t. I’ve learned my lesson, believe me. The last few weeks have been…”

“Tough?”

Becky cups Charlotte’s face in her hands and traces the tip of her nose along Charlotte’s own. “I can’t stay away from you. It turns out I’m more afraid of not bein’ with you than I am of bein’ with you.”

“Yeah?”

“You want me an’ I want you,” Becky says, moving close enough to catch Charlotte’s chin with her fingers, so that Charlotte has to look at her properly. “It doesn’t matter how long it took us to get here, we got here and that’s all that matters to me.”

“You always say the right thing,” Charlotte tells her, her eyes soft and shiny. “It takes you awhile to get there at times but you always get it right in the end.”

“I wanna show you somethin’,” Becky says, dropping her hand and digging it into her pocket. Charlotte sees the jack end of the cable and frowns as Becky untangles the rest of it. “That day we went to Alcatraz, I had two pairs of earphones. I… I put these in my pocket cause I wanted to share with you. Be close to you I guess. That day was it for me. When it changed I mean.”

“I think that day was it for me too,” Charlotte answers, reaching out to take one half of the earphones into her hand. “I knew everything had changed that day. You really did that?”

“I really did,” Becky says, slipping the earphones back into her pocket. “I’d do it again too. That was one of the best days I’ve spent in this city an’ it was because of you.”

“It was one of the best days for me too.”

“You deserve a happy ever after.”

“I don’t need a happy ever after, Becky.”

“You don’t?”

“No.”

“Then -”

“I’m okay with ups and downs ever after, or sometimes we argue ever after, or maybe even we drive each other crazy ever after. I don’t care. As long as it is with you I’ll be okay.”  
  
Love is unpredictable and it’s messy, and occasionally it can drive you completely crazy.

Or, maybe that’s just Becky, the way she is, what she is in Charlotte’s life.

But Charlotte wouldn’t have it any other way and when she looks at Becky she thinks Becky wouldn’t have it any other way either. 

“Everythin’ that happened, every time I got knocked down or got told I couldn’t box again or moved my life around the world, I’m glad it happened cause all that shit led me to you.”

Charlotte brings Becky closer and spreads her hands across the top of Becky’s shoulder blades, and then lower across the plane of her back before she moves downwards further and settles them near Becky’s hips.

“So, what should I do then?” Becky asks quietly. “Should I stay here or?”

“That’s easy,” Charlotte says, “I want you to kiss me so start by doing that.”

Becky’s eyes don’t leave hers and Charlotte feels the intensity behind them, it blazes in the same way oxygen feeds a fire, and the way your heart involuntary beats is the same way that Becky has fallen for Charlotte, without being forced or asked.

“I want you,” Becky states quietly.

Charlotte takes Becky’s thumb into her mouth and hooks it over Becky’s teeth. “You already have me.”

Becky’s hands go to her waist and Charlotte’s mouth takes everything that Becky has to give. She tries to express how she feels about Charlotte, everything she wants to say, because she’s never really been good at talking about this stuff.

Charlotte’s hands move to Becky’s jacket in an attempt to pull her closer. Becky smiles and pulls away. “I’m not goin’ anywhere. I promise.”

Charlotte loosens her grip on Becky’s collar and moves her eyes and hands down the front of Becky’s jacket. Becky’s gaze follows Charlotte’s hands as she slips off her jacket. “I just… I missed you, love.”

“Really?” Becky teases, “couldn’t tell.”

“You missed me too,” Charlotte says. It isn’t a question but there is an innocent confession in it because everything about Becky – the tension in her back, the way her hips press into Charlotte’s, the thudding of Becky’s heart that Charlotte can see at the hollow of her throat and the waver in Becky’s voice – says that the missing has been completely mutual.

Becky smiles and pulls Charlotte back in by her hips and then she says, “Of course I missed you, I’m kinda lost without you.”

Charlotte wraps her arms around Becky’s neck and pulls her in for a kiss. Becky’s mouth presses against her own and every time they kiss Becky finds herself falling a little deeper.

Charlotte’s lips travel along the ridge of Becky’s jaw before hovering over her lips, and then she swipes the pad of her thumb over Becky’s bottom lip.

“Becky?” Charlotte asks, pressing more soft kisses along Becky’s jaw.

“Yeah?” Becky tries to keep her eyes open, but a sense of peace has settled itself into the grooves of her bones, making it difficult.

“I’m keeping you,” Charlotte says, her voice quiet against Becky’s skin.

“You better.”

“I think we were always supposed to meet,” Charlotte admits when she pulls away from Becky and rests their foreheads together. “I think in any world it would have happened.”

“You believe in all that kinda stuff?”

“No. Well, I guess sometimes. What I’m trying to say,” Charlotte tries again, “is that there should always be a life where we should meet.”

Becky swallows and her throat almost feels too tight to move. “I hope so.”

Charlotte isn’t stupid. It dawned on her long ago that everybody wants different things. Some people want to be rich; some people want to be famous; some people want to climb mountains, and some people only want to do the right thing. Her? Well, she only wants Becky.

Their relationship has lots of layers, they aren’t separate at all, Charlotte realises. Her feelings for Becky aren’t kept in a secret little box beside the one where their friendship is. They intertwine. Like milk in coffee. Their friendship is strong because of love and their relationship will be even stronger because it has blossomed out of that friendship.

To think of Becky as hers seems like some sort of impossible luxury for Charlotte but, in all honesty, it is the only luxury that she’s ever been greedy for.

Charlotte wants Becky and Becky wants her, and that’s the only thing that matters right now. She leads Becky over towards the couch and pushes her onto it with enough force that Becky is under no illusions of who is in charge of this situation.

Becky can’t help but smile at the push as Charlotte straddles her. Becky’s hands find the small of Charlotte’s back as she tightens her grip and digs her nails in.

Charlotte is kissing her again, taking her time exploring Becky’s mouth with her tongue. Charlotte tangles her hands in Becky’s hair and deepens the kiss.

Becky moans against her mouth and moves her hands down to Charlotte’s hips and squeezes as Charlotte takes her bottom lip between her teeth and pulls.

All they know is each other and this moment. They exist in the fade out, like at the end of a song. When there are no more notes to hit and nothing left to sing, it just fades out and for a few beats they can’t hear anything else except the blood rushing around their ears or their heartbeats pushing against their ribs.

It is just them and nothing else.

Becky hasn’t seen Charlotte like this. The almost animalistic stare, the smug look on her face, the aggression, this is a side of Charlotte that Becky is new to.

Charlotte leans in close to Becky’s ear and asks, “Where do you want me, Becks?”

Charlotte’s voice is low and soft but powerful enough that it makes Becky’s stomach drop. Becky feels Charlotte’s lips on her neck.

“Everywhere. I want your hands everywhere. I want you everywhere.”

Charlotte smiles and pulls her own lip between her teeth. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Becky’s eyes meet Charlotte’s again as Charlotte moves her hands down Becky’s side, her nails now digging in as she tucks her hands under the front of Becky’s shirt. She skims her fingers up smooth skin before she cups Becky’s breasts, enjoying the sensation of the soft flesh against her hands before she pulls her hands away.

Charlotte makes a show of undoing the buttons on Becky’s shirt, starting at the bottom and working her way upwards slowly, letting Becky’s eyes follow her movements. She moves forward so that she can slip Becky’s shirt off, leaning down so that she can bite gently at the skin that connects Becky’s neck and shoulder.

She takes Becky’s hands in her own, tangling their fingers, watching as they fit perfectly together before she kisses Becky again. She guides Becky’s hands downwards so that they are sitting low on Charlotte’s hips and then against her ass.

“Move your hands and you’ll be in trouble.”

“What if I wanna be in trouble though?”

Charlotte smiles as she leans forward again, her lips just inches away from Becky’s. “Be good for once, Becks.”

And then Charlotte is there. Soft and warm, and Becky’s mouth is occupied again. Occupied by lips that press and part, that slant and slide in a way that fits Becky. It has Becky feeling restless and aching underneath, and the fluttering in her chest becomes wilder.

Charlotte’s lips ghost against Becky’s shoulder and then her lips attach to the tender skin of Becky’s throat, tracing a pattern of kisses to Becky’s breast bone. She feels Becky exhale underneath her and smiling, Charlotte drags her tongue back up along the same path.

The sound that Becky makes is new and exciting, and it fills Charlotte’s head completely. It pulls at something in her stomach, enough that she ends up scraping her teeth against Becky’s skin. Becky’s hands hesitate and almost move but then they still, choosing to grip and squeeze at Charlotte’s ass.

Charlotte’s fingers move upwards and through Becky’s hair, coming to rest against the curve of Becky’s cheek. She tilts Becky’s head towards her and encourages Becky into a kiss that sparks something right through Charlotte’s chest.

She nips at Becky’s bottom lip and then sucks it into her mouth to soothe the sting. Charlotte kisses Becky with a purpose that has Becky moving underneath her, seeking the same friction that their mouths are creating.

“Charlie-”

“Shhh.” Charlotte presses her finger to Becky’s lips as she stands and then nudges Becky’s legs apart so that she can kneel in between them. Becky really is the prettiest thing Charlotte has ever seen.

Charlotte traces her fingers lightly over the skin on Becky’s stomach, watching as it rises and falls with every intake of breath. The scar on Becky’s right side is still a dark pink colour and Charlotte reaches over to press her lips against it. The sudden warm pressure on the tender tissue makes Becky squirm.

Charlotte pulls her head away and looks up to find Becky staring back at her. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Becky breathes.

“Good.” Charlotte doesn’t dwell on the scar because she knows Becky wouldn’t want that and the last thing she wants to do is ruin the moment now. Instead she works her way up Becky’s middle, over her sternum and then her attention falls onto Becky’s bra. She makes light work of it, tugging it down so that she can take a nipple into her mouth.

“God, Charlotte,” Becky breathes out. Charlotte swirls her tongue around Becky’s nipple, sucking before letting it go and moving across to the other.

Charlotte is at her ear again before long and Becky lets out a long, shuddering breath that she wasn’t even aware that was holding. “Let me take care of you.”

She gives Becky a soft, short kiss as her hands move to Becky’s belt, undoing the buckle with ease. Becky tries to grab at Charlotte’s wrists but Charlotte stops what she is doing. “Nu uh, Becks. Did you forget who’s in charge?”

Becky’s hair is wild and her breathing has become laboured, her hands at her sides seem to be impatiently waiting for something to happen. The look in Becky’s eyes make Charlotte feel wanted, needed even.

“Somethin’ wrong, babe?” Becky asks, concern filling her face.

“Oh, absolutely not.” Charlotte stands and takes Becky’s hands into her own, pulling her up so that they are standing face to face. Her eyes wander down Becky’s body without any shame and Charlotte unhooks the last of the belt, sliding the zip down and Becky follows the initiative and steps out of her jeans just as Charlotte wants her to.

She lets Becky watch her undress. She does it slowly and deliberately until she sees Becky’s hand twitch in anticipation. There is something to be said about having power like this over Becky.

Charlotte nudges Becky backwards again onto the couch, spreading Becky’s legs and getting onto her knees. She starts at Becky’s thighs, kissing over the sensitive skin and causing Becky to try and press herself closer to Charlotte’s mouth.

“Not yet,” Charlotte whispers. She wraps her arm around Becky’s back to bring her closer.

“Why?” Becky whimpers.

“You’re wet,” Charlotte says simply, and her mouth is already attached to one of Becky’s nipples, while her thumb works the other. “And you are beautiful, Becky.”

Becky’s response is an incoherent vibration against Charlotte's chest as she arches into Charlotte’s touch. Her hand gathers at the back of Charlotte’s neck and the kiss is a desperate mess of tongue and teeth and want. She pushes Charlotte down and this time Charlotte goes.

Charlotte’s eyes never leave her own and Becky feels Charlotte kiss her over her underwear. She looks down and watches Charlotte’s tongue move over the thin fabric and her eyes eventually squeeze shut and her head tilts backwards and Becky wants to scream already. 

She moves her hands into Charlotte’s hair, tugging with enough force that it draws Charlotte’s attention. “Charlotte -”

“It’s incredibly hot knowing I get you like this and I haven’t even really touched you yet.”

Becky feels the heat rush to her face and she can’t deny it.

“You know how many times I’ve thought about this?” Charlotte asks.

“No.”

“Too many times to count,” Charlotte answers as she rolls Becky’s underwear down over her thighs and legs. “About touching you. Tasting you. _ Everything.” _

“Fuck. Charlotte please,” Becky urges again, pushing her hips closer to Charlotte’s mouth.

Charlotte places both of her palms against Becky’s hips to keep her in place and Becky is weak, and she really isn’t ready because the first swipe of Charlotte’s tongue against her almost draws the breath from her lungs. Charlotte’s fingers have been deft and gentle but her tongue is something else. She is everywhere in the span of a second.

Charlotte settles into a steadier rhythm, licking small circles around Becky’s clit and drawing it into her mouth, sucking slowly. Charlotte hears Becky moan against gritted teeth and then she feels Becky’s fingers thread through her hair tighter, encouraging her to explore further so she does. Her tongue moves quicker until she feels Becky trembling underneath her. 

She moves lower, pushing inside of Becky as deep as she can with her tongue. There’s heels being dug into her shoulders and the hand in her hair is beginning to sting with the pull.

“Charlotte,” Becky begs, “I need… more.”

Charlotte replaces her tongue with her fingers, slipping easily inside.

Charlotte thrusts slowly, letting Becky get used to the sensation, but Becky clearly has other ideas. It is Becky who hooks her legs around Charlotte’s back and it’s Becky who starts rocking up to meet Charlotte with every thrust.

She drags Charlotte’s mouth back up to her own and Charlotte coaxes Becky’s lips open with her tongue. Becky can taste herself in the kiss and she can’t help but pant into Charlotte’s mouth in search of more of it.

“Harder, Charlie.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re not. Promise.”

Charlotte’s stomach tightens just watching Becky. Becky takes a deep breath and grips onto Charlotte’s shoulders hard, her nails scrape against Charlotte’s skin and then Becky’s teeth sink into her shoulder and Charlotte can’t help but push in deeper.

“Charlotte,” Becky pants.

Her name on Becky’s lips makes Charlotte feel a bit like a superhero.

The sounds Becky makes seep into Charlotte’s memory and Charlotte doesn’t think she will ever get tired of remembering them. Every little breathy pant and throaty whimper goes straight to her head. She grasps at Becky’s hip with her free hand as she presses into Becky harder, and before long Becky is shuddering underneath her, clenching Charlotte’s fingers tightly.

-

The late morning sky is crisscrossed with lonely, thin white clouds that only serve to enhance the rich blue that they lay against.

“What do you think people will say about us when they find out?” Charlotte whispers into Becky’s ear.

“Probably that we are two dopes that’ll never last,” Becky replies with a playful glint in her eye. “Good job I like provin’ people wrong.”

“Oh God.”

“You should know somethin’ though, I wanna hide you away from the world,” Becky whispers.

“Why?”

“Cause you’re beautiful an’ it makes me a little crazy at times.”

Charlotte smiles and it’s a shy smile that blooms slowly across her face. “Stop.”

“An’ it’s still my job to protect you.”

They are stretched out on their sides, facing each other while Becky idly traces circles on Charlotte’s hip bone. Becky thinks that both of them are waiting on the other to say something else. Then Charlotte sighs, her expression flickering with worry and then something else Becky can’t really pinpoint and it worries her.

“Becks, can I tell you something?”

“Course,” Becky murmurs in response.

“It’s you,” Charlotte says, not able to look away. “It’s how I feel when I’m with you. It doesn’t matter about who I am or who you are, I really do think it was always supposed to be this way for us. I need someone like you… but I think you need someone like me too.”

“I do.”

“I don’t like the thought of you being like this with anybody else.”

Becky swallows her worry and her surprise, and she smiles. “I don’t want to be like this with anybody else anyway. Just you.”

“Just me.”

“What did I do to deserve you, eh?”

“You told me to be brave. You made me open up and show me that the world isn’t always bad. You opened my eyes so I could see certain things better.” Charlotte leans closer and puts her hand on Becky’s hip to draw her closer. “You made me a better person.”

Becky rests her nose in the column of Charlotte’s throat, pressing a gentle kiss to the soft flesh there. “Guess the universe kinda owed me some luck.”

Charlotte finds Becky’s hand with her own and she links their fingers together firmly so that Becky can’t pull away.

“Becky,” Charlotte breathes. Becky’s name on her lips in the morning light is like some sort of revelation and Charlotte wants to break. She wants to shatter. She wants to tell Becky things that she probably shouldn’t right now but she does anyway. “What happens if… if I tell you that I love you?”  
  
Charlotte has the feeling that Becky needs space and care and time; enough space so that she can think for herself but not so much that she can run away from it; enough care to let her flourish and enough time to let her adjust to having someone else that she can actually rely on. 

Their relationship, much like everyone else’s, has flaws, but what does that matter when it comes down to it? People love what they love and they love who they love regardless of anything else. Reason doesn’t have to enter it at times. In some ways, unexpected love is the best kind of love. Anyone can love anything just because they want to. But to love someone despite the flaws, to know that not everyone will get it or understand it, and still love them anyway? Well, that is rare and risky and perfect.

Becky shuts her eyes tightly and smiles into Charlotte’s body before she tilts Charlotte’s chin downwards so that they are almost nose-to-nose. “I guess I'll tell you that I love you right back.”

There are no magic words as such but words can certainly hold magic and those three do. They give things depth and shape and meaning. The words are powerful and it has nothing to do with the weight of them, it is about how they stay with you.

It is about how you can still hear them and feel them long after they have been spoken, the words echo in your head and in your heart. When it comes to those three words, the power and the magic is very much real.

*****

“… and that is basically the current situation,” Charlotte says, her voice straining in frustration, “it is all going to come out in the wash so I wanted to tell you now before it reaches the press.”

“Tyler,” Ric says quietly, “that son of a bitch.”

Charlotte laughs, a sad sound from someone who has been on the wrong end of life’s shitty stick too many times for her own liking. “Son of a bitch is right.”

“How long has this been going on for?”

Charlotte bites the end of her pen as she stares at the clock on her screen. She has another twenty minutes before she needs to get to another meeting with her lawyer. “Weeks, I wanted to assess the situation first before I started sending out news reports about it.”

“I could kill him,” Ric retorts sharply. “I… always knew he was capable of being sly, it’s half why I hired him in all honesty. But against _ you? _”

Charlotte looks across at her father and sighs. She hasn’t seen him like this very often. His temper is usually easily controlled and difficult to manipulate but when it comes to her then she guesses all bets are off. She also knows her dad could throw a punch back in the day and that’s the last thing she needs right now.

“I need you to promise me you aren’t going to go looking for him?”

“Sweetheart-”

“No,” Charlotte interrupts, “I need you to promise me. I have enough going on.”

“There is no way he has any claim on any part of this club,” Ric says with a sigh. “Paige will simply have to be bought out. We need to get rid of her too.”

“I’ve thought about that myself,” Charlotte admits. “But I’m not sure it’s worth the risk of ploughing an obscene amount of money into this right now because make no mistake she will ask for an obscene amount.”

“Charlotte,” Ric says, “this is the best state the club has ever been in, you’ve done beautifully but let me help you with this part.”

There is an undercurrent of calm in her father’s words, an intentional display of over support, that only Charlotte would be able to pick up on. “Can you afford to foot the bill for it?”

“I can,” Ric assures her, “money is not an issue and I’ll make it back because this club,” he points to the ceiling, “is only going one way under you.”

“I don’t think we have any other choice,” Charlotte confesses, “I need them out of this place, dad. Shareholders -”

“Will go where the money goes,” Ric says instantly, “believe me on that. You’ve managed to turn this ship around. The club is performing well, fans are happy, players are happy and that means more money.”

Dropping her pen, Charlotte sighs and sits back on her chair. “You haven’t mentioned Becky.”

“Sweetheart, I trust that I raised you well enough to know who is and isn’t good for you,” Ric says kindly. “If Becky is good for you, if she has you walking on cloud nine, then you can be damn sure that she is good enough for me too.”

“I love her,” Charlotte says quietly. “I can see myself being happy with her and never feeling like something was missing or lacking.”

“And that’s all that matters to me,” Ric answers. “Now, when can I meet her properly?”

“Tomorrow night for dinner at my place, you better bring a bottle though, we all need it,” Charlotte jokes.

*****

The soft light is what wakes Becky in the morning.

Well, that and something a bit… colder.

She blinks a tired eye open to find most of the duvet gone from around her. The only bit of her covered is her arm that is all but devoid of any feeling because Charlotte is sprawled over it, even when she flexes her fingers she can’t feel anything.

“Charlie, you’re hoggin’ the duvet.”

Becky sounds grouchy and she knows it.

“Becky?” Charlotte murmurs back, not moving from where she is laying. She can feel the heat from Becky’s body behind her. It radiates from her shoulder blades through to her chest.

Becky nudges gently at Charlotte’s naked back with her free hand and huffs out a sleepy sigh. “Stop hoggin’ the bed.”

She manages to move her arm downwards so that it is underneath Charlotte’s shoulder instead of her neck and Becky knows that she can't be comfortable like that. Charlotte eventually groans in protest. “What are you doing, Becky?”

“I told you that you were hoggin’ the duvet,” Becky bites back, “an’ you wouldn’t move so I’m makin’ you.” Becky grips the edge of the duvet with her right hand and attempts to pull some of it back over her while Charlotte holds onto it too and laughs.

“You can’t beat me,” Charlotte answers, closing her eyes again. “I’m not moving.”

A hard pull rolls Charlotte over so that she is facing Becky who is looking too smug for this early in the morning. Becky makes a show of pulling the duvet up to her neck and settling back down onto her pillow, letting out a happy breath.

“You said I couldn’t beat you,” Becky explains, “if I can’t beat you then I had to join you under here.”

Charlotte feels fingers drift over her rib cage and then down to the swell of her hip where Becky’s thumb draws out a circular pattern against her skin. It tickles and she can’t help the laugh that falls from her mouth.

“I didn’t know you were tickly,” Becky mumbles.

Charlotte should see it coming a mile away but it takes her by surprise when Becky rolls over on top of her, pinning her to the bed and finding a spot on Charlotte’s ribs to playfully attack. Uncontrollable giggles spill out of Charlotte as Becky continues her new exploration. The more it happens the more Charlotte laughs and the more she thinks that’s exactly what Becky is going for.

“You surrender?” Becky asks after a few more minutes, leaning down to press a tender kiss onto Charlotte’s lips. “You don’t want to say no.”

“I don’t?”

“Nah,” Becky shakes her head and widens her eyes in a way that has Charlotte laughing again.

“Maybe I can convince you to kiss me again then instead. I’m right here, love. Come and get me.”

Becky does kiss her again.

And again.

-

Charlotte sees it by chance.

The small square mirror fogs over as she peers at her reflection and she palms at the base of her neck with the heel of her hand. The mark doesn’t shift.

Tooth marks.

Holy shit.

“You left a mark on my neck, Becky!”

Becky opens the shower door just far enough so that she can pop her head out to look in Charlotte’s direction. She wipes water out of her eyes and grins. “Good thing you don’t have work tomorrow.”

“No, but my father is coming to dinner tonight!”

Becky grins wider and turns her head up towards the spray of the water.

Charlotte rubs at the tooth marks which makes her skin turn a furious shade of pink. “You better hope I can cover this.”

“Nah,” comes Becky’s reply. “_You _ better hope you can cover that.”

Charlotte rolls her eyes, having a change of heart and returning back to the water.

To Becky.

Becky presses her lips to Charlotte’s and it’s a gentle kiss with very little urgency. It is startlingly sweet and achingly familiar, and it doesn’t lead anywhere else at all.

But they have time.

And time is the most precious thing you can have. 

  
  



	12. this is a beautiful start to a lifelong love letter...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we have come to the end of this story. What a journey. Just want to say a huge thank you to everyone who has read and supported this fic, it has been unreal and we are very grateful! 
> 
> Also Suzy, thank you for being the best writing partner I could have asked for. You know it's true! 
> 
> We made a playlist while writing this fic so if you want to check it out you can find it here:  
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3LCXYz4iZeot3IzzwLxWjl?si=RWLN6IiwQg2ciN2MfoS-gQ
> 
> We really hope you enjoy the last chapter and again, thank you!

“… she loves me.” Charlotte lets out a silly stifled laugh.

“You sound surprised by that.”

“I am,” Charlotte admits. “No one has, not like this anyway. Words are easy to say for most people but it’s not just words with Becky. She looks at me and she sees me – all of me – and it doesn’t matter. She just loves me anyway.”

“I know. You can see it on Becky,” Nattie says, “she wears it like armour, like it keeps her safe. You wear it in the same way.”

“So, you like her then?” Charlotte asks. “Do you approve?”

The afternoon sun spills through narrow openings of the clouds, outlining the fringes of them. The calm shade of blue supports the sun. There are a few people scattered around the park but it’s quiet in itself. A few joggers pass by where Charlotte is sitting on the bench, not even sparing her a second glance.

“I do,” Nattie tells her, “once you get past the initial tough front she’s surprisingly lovely. You and her have my approval, Charlotte, not that you needed it.”

“I know but your opinion matters to me.”

“And all that matters to me as your best friend is that you’re happy. Are you happy?”

Charlotte rolls her eyes, and she is glad that Nattie can’t see her because she would totally call her out for it. “Happier than I can ever remember being.”

“Oh,” Nattie says with a laugh, “I could see that believe me. Tyler was never good for you.”

“I know. It just took me a while longer to see that.”

“It just took you Becky to see that,” Nattie argues gently. “You should have known Becky had me won over at that point really.”

Charlotte laughs and after they say their goodbyes, she hangs up the phone and sends a quick text to Becky to let her know where she is waiting. It is weird knowing Becky is at work and it is not with her but they have had almost two weeks of adjusting and they have settled into a new routine that conveniently suits both of them.

Becky either brings lunch to Charlotte’s office or they meet half way and one of them picks something up for the both of them. Today, Becky is bringing them something to the park.

“Getting your father to fight your battles for you, Charlotte, really?”

_Tyler._

Charlotte recognises his voice immediately, but she keeps her gaze fixed on the view in front of her, momentarily surprised that he is standing right behind where she is sitting.

“You’re too easy to find,” he says, as if he has read her thoughts.

“You really shouldn’t be here,” she answers, standing up so that she can face him properly. “Everything I need to say to you will be through my lawyers.”

Shaking his head, he says, “You spend all those years with someone… you end up knowing what they are capable of.”

He searches her face for any sign of weakness but sees none. Her shoulders are back and her head is tilted upwards. He is going to have to do better to make Charlotte wither.

“Yeah,” Charlotte remarks, “but you also shouldn’t underestimate what I’m capable of.”

“What Ric is capable of you mean?”

Charlotte lips part. “Do personal boundaries mean anything to you? Or are you on a mission to make yourself look even more pathetic?”

Tyler hardens his posture and his tone. “Let me tell you something, Charlotte. If you really think your father scares me, you’re dead wrong.”

It is spite, Charlotte realises. He doesn’t care about her or the club. He is drawing all of this out on purpose due to spite.

Everyone has heard that misery loves company but so does the wicked. People like Tyler, they are the type you don’t want to meet in your life, and if you are unlucky enough to stumble across them then you better be ready to fight until the end to get rid of them. They are the kind of people who are always on the hunt for the next carcass to pick clean.

“Some people say it with flowers, I bring you coffee and a fresh pastry – what the fuck are you doin’ here?”

Sliding his hands into his trouser pockets, Tyler offers Becky a wide smile. “Welcome to the conversation, Becky. I was wondering when you would show up.”

“Becky,” Charlotte murmurs, “just leave it.”

“We live in the same city,” Tyler says, “we’re bound to bump into each other.”

Becky takes a few steps further forward, placing the drinks and food she has onto the bench next to where Charlotte has been sitting. She straightens, placing her fingertips on Charlotte’s back, imposing a hostile barrier between them and Tyler.

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s all it is,” Becky answers.

Tyler shakes his head. “It’s a simple explanation, you are letting yourself get blinded by your dislike of me.”

“Must hurt,” Becky begins to prod, “watchin’ Charlotte do all of this without you. You thought you just had to swoop in an’ everythin’ would all be yours. Her, the club, the money, the success…”

It lands a blow because Becky watches his nostrils flare and his eyes narrow.

“I wouldn’t get too comfortable, Becky,” Tyler says calmly. “She will chew you up and spit you out like everything else in her life. The Flair’s are poison. All of them but especially _her_.”

“Why? Cause she didn’t roll over an’ let you walk all over her?”

“Oh, she’s rolled over for me plenty. Haven’t you Charlotte?”

Charlotte knows it is about to happen. She feels Becky’s fingers dig a little deeper into her back and she feels the slight shake in Becky’s arm. The gloves are all but coming off and Charlotte doesn’t know how she can possibly stop it. She imagines that trying to stop Becky would be like trying to catch smoke.

Becky is dangerous because Charlotte can’t control her, not that she wants to anyway. And she is utterly beautiful, like molten glass that tempts you to touch even though you know you’ll get burned.

Becky moves before Charlotte can stop her, reaching Tyler in a few quick strides before she has him by the shoulder of his suit jacket. “I’m warnin’ you to keep away from her. You don’t speak to her. You don’t even look at her. You’re a twisted piece of filth an’ everyone can see through you now.”

Tyler laughs and Becky’s hand digs further into his collarbone, causing him to bend his head away from Becky. But then Charlotte’s hand is on Becky’s arm and she is reluctantly pulled away from him.

“Don’t rise to him, Becks. It’s what he wants and there are enough prying eyes in this park as it is.”

The opposing thoughts spread through Becky’s mind like wildfire. On the one hand she knows that Charlotte is right and an incident like this will just make everything even more complicated for them all. But on the other hand she wishes that she could beat seven shades of shit out of Tyler and be done with it all.

Becky watches as Tyler debates saying something else, she sees a flicker of anger high up on his cheeks that seems to leak colour into his eyes. He straightens his suit jacket and lets his hand rub over his collarbone where it must still hurt from the pressure Becky applied. He doesn’t say anything else though, he just turns and slithers away back into the park, like a snake returning to its original habitat.

It takes Becky an uncharacteristically long time to return her attention onto Charlotte. Charlotte’s eyes are sparkling like storm clouds before lightning hits, clouds of grey and blue threaten floods and fury but Becky can see it for what it is: worry.

Charlotte is worried about this current situation.

“I wasn’t gonna let him talk about you like that,” is the first thing Becky thinks to say.

“He’s not worth fighting in this way,” Charlotte retorts, her jaw tight in frustration. “The more this kind of thing happens the more ammo we give him to keep coming back.”

“So what?” Becky ventures, the expression on her face darkening. “I just stand by and watch him treat you like that? That’s fuckin’ bullshit -”

“Becky,” Charlotte says, taking Becky’s hand into her own. “You know how people like him work. We need to do this above board otherwise he will never leave.”

“But I just want to-”

“I know that you want to stand up for me,” Charlotte counters, “and I love that about you and I appreciate it more than I can tell you. But let's fight this battle the right way.”

Becky’s face tilts up for a moment and then she lets out a noisy sigh through her nose. “Alright… but I hate that guy.”

Charlotte laughs, tugging at Becky’s hand so that she lands on the bench next to her, but far enough over so that she doesn’t ruin their lunch. “So do I.”

“You still hungry or nah?” Becky asks.

“You know I’ll never turn down a lunch with you, love.”

Sometimes you just have to take life as it comes and roll with the punches.

It doesn’t always spare your feelings and it doesn’t limit your pain at times but it also doesn’t put a ceiling on your happiness. For Charlotte, sitting in the sunshine eating lunch with Becky, that has to count for something. 

*****

Becky tugs at Charlotte’s wrist and pulls her until she is straddling her. Becky’s hand smooth’s down the outside of Charlotte’s thigh, over the expensive fabric of her dress.

“Thank you for wearin’ this tonight, from the bottom of my heart.”

“I said I would for you.”

“Maybe we should do dinner with Sasha and Bayley more often.” Becky thumbs at the soft skin underneath the hem of the dress.

“You’ve changed your tune.”

“Comin’ home to this kinda thing will do that to you, Charlie.”

Charlotte rolls her eyes and then leans their heads together. “You’re ridiculous… but coming home with you is always a positive, we should keep doing that. Maybe even make it a long term thing.”

The last part is said softer, quieter even, so quiet that Becky might have missed it if they weren’t so closely pressed together.

“Long term thing,” Becky whispers. “I like the sound of that.”

And she does because there was a time where Becky never thought her life would be like this. Safe and warm, a sense that she belongs. She has been waiting for that feeling for most of her adult life.

Charlotte lifts her hand, tangling her fingers through Becky’s hair, her expression tender and open and warm. “Well, that’s what I want anyway.”

“I know.”

Charlotte smiles, touching Becky’s face with the back of her finger. “Don’t freak out.”

“I’m not freakin’ out.”

“You sure?”

“Alright, just a little bit but I can deal with it.”

Charlotte leans down again to pull Becky in but she doesn’t get the chance to speak because Becky kisses her and Charlotte’s heart swells at that. Becky’s hands are strong on her hips and it keeps Charlotte in place on Becky’s lap.

“I wanted to ask you about something,” Charlotte says when they part, “it is about what you mentioned at dinner.”

“I said a lot at dinner.”

“About always being able to defend yourself... when we were talking about Tyler.”

“Oh.” Becky’s face crinkles in confusion. “What about it?”

“I want to learn,” Charlotte says. “Or, rather, I want you to teach me.”

“To defend yourself?”

“Yes.”

“I thought you did kickboxin’ or somethin’ when you were younger?” Becky asks, her fingers now tapping out a pattern on Charlotte’s hips.

“I did,” Charlotte answers, “but we both know I can’t swing a punch like you and I’d quite like to learn that skill.”

Becky ponders Charlotte’s words for a second before she realises their implications. It is like a tap being switched on inside of her, the water filling up until it reaches her lungs and begins to bear down with an uncomfortable weight. She shifts where she is sitting and gently moves Charlotte away so that there is some distance between them again.

“I can’t teach you how to box, Charlotte.”

“You can’t or you don’t want to?”

Becky makes a face at her. “Does it really matter?”

“It does to me,” Charlotte says gently, “if you don’t want to I’ll drop this conversation right now.”

“But?”

“But I know you.” Charlotte’s attention switches to Becky’s hands, dragging them back up to settle on the dip of her waist.

“So?”

“So, I know that boxing is still very much here.” Charlotte taps Becky’s temple lightly with her index finger. “And it is definitely still in here.” She copies the motion over the left side of Becky’s shirt at her chest.

“Guess you know me a bit these days.”

“Do you trust me?”

Becky blinks like she is trying to break through a fog. Colour finds its way into her cheeks and her breath kicks up. Becky’s eyes fix onto Charlotte, baring the pieces of her that Charlotte knows Becky doesn’t show many people.

“Y’know I do."

“And I trust you to teach me.”

There are three things that Charlotte is certain of these days.

One, that she loves Becky. Two, she can trust Becky. And three, Becky loves and trusts her just as much. It is the last one that surprises Charlotte the most, even though it probably shouldn’t. The first two feed so hungrily on the last that it seems completely obvious now.

“If I agree to this,” Becky says, walking her fingers up the plane of Charlotte’s ribs, “you have to remember that I’m the teacher and not you.”

“You’re annoying sometimes.”

“So are you,” Becky says defensively. “That’s why I said it.”

“I guess that means we’re a good fit for each other then.”

Charlotte stares at Becky, challenging her to deny it or make a smart ass comment about what she’s said.

“I suppose so,” Becky murmurs.

Charlotte smiles.

“I waited a long time, y’know?” Becky whispers.

“For what?” Charlotte asks.

“For you.”

Destroyed. Becky’s battle armour. Her insecurities. Her stubborn heart. Charlotte has managed to smash clean through the first two and has now laid complete claim to the third because Becky doesn’t want to be anywhere other than here.

She had been wandering around with a hollow point in her chest where her heart used to be but that weak point is healing. Her heart is back in its rightful place because Charlotte is there now too.

And Charlotte fucking loves her. 

*****  
  


The first thing Becky really notices about the place is the smell.

It smells unusually fresh and clean.

There are no undertones of blood or sweat or tears. It is absolutely nothing like the gym she grew up and learned in. The second thing is the plastic type smell that she thinks is due to the new covering of rubber mats on the floor. The mirror on the far wall stretches the whole way across and Becky feels a little out of place at the grandeur of it.

“You sure we’re good in here?”

“I’m sure,” Charlotte nods, “the team is away and I made sure the place was free for us. There won’t be another soul in this gym. You ready to get started?”

Charlotte looks eager. God love her, Becky thinks, because if Charlotte reckons Becky is going to go easy on her then Becky is afraid that she has another thing coming. If they are going to do this then they are going to do it properly.

It is the only way Becky knows.

“I brought wraps,” Becky says, digging into her bag to find them.

“Will I need them?”

“Oh, you’ll need them,” Becky answers with a smile. “Will support your wrist and knuckles, will help the shock after the punch distributes through your hand too.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Charlotte sits onto one of the mats, opening the packet the wraps are contained in and Becky watches as she lets one roll out its full length away from her. Charlotte fiddles with it for a few minutes before Becky shakes her head, kneeling down and taking the wrap into her own hands.

“Hold your hand out for me.”

Charlotte reaches her right hand out and watches as Becky loops the material over her thumb before moving away from it to wrap it twice around her wrist. She does it slowly so that Charlotte can follow her movements.

“First rule is you always loop it away from your thumb,” Becky murmurs, “otherwise it will just slip off an’ you really don’t want that.”

Becky secures her wrist tightly before she wraps it around Charlotte's hand twice too, covering Charlotte’s knuckles.

“Secondly, always protect your knuckles. You don’t want a boxer's fracture if you can help it.”

Then Becky moves onto Charlotte’s fingers. She starts between the pinky and the ring finger, moving the material snugly against Charlotte’s skin, before crossing it back over Charlotte’s hand and moving onto her other fingers until she finishes at Charlotte’s thumb.

“The three X’s,” Becky continues. “You place it between each finger and then back across your hand so that it makes an X shape an’ then you go once around your thumb.”

Becky turns Charlotte’s hand so that it is facing palm up and then she wraps the material over Charlotte’s knuckles again. She makes a few more X’s across Charlotte’s hand before she secures the velcro and finishes the whole process off.

“Try that.”

Charlotte flexes her hand and her fingers. She still has a good amount of movement and nothing feels too tight or restrictive as she moves. She thinks that Becky has done a pretty good job. “It feels fine to me.”

“Alright, now you’re gonna do the other hand,” Becky says, chucking Charlotte the second wrap.

Charlotte picks up the second wrap and copies Becky’s technique to the best of her ability. It doesn’t feel as fixed as her right hand but for her first effort she is pleased and when she looks up and sees Becky beaming at her, well, that tells her all she needs to know.

When she is done she stands and heads over to one of the free bags before Becky calls her back.

“You gotta warm up first. Pick up the ropes.”

“You… want me to skip?”

“I do,” Becky says, “and put some effort into it, y’know, for me.”

-

Becky can feel the sweat on her hairline but she doesn’t bother wiping it away. It helps her feel like she has worked hard, and she has, this is the most she has pushed herself in a gym in years. Across from her, Charlotte takes in a long breath, the sweat on her brow reflecting against the bright beam of the lights above them.

“How’d you do this every day?” Charlotte breathes out. “I’m dying.”

“We’ve barely even started yet!”

“I know,” Charlotte shoots back. “That’s the problem.”

Becky laughs, grabbing a bottle of water and throwing it over in Charlotte’s direction.

They have spent the last forty minutes going over various punch moves at the bag closest to the mirror, and the quick footwork that has to go with it. Becky had instructed Charlotte to watch herself in the mirror so that she can see exactly what she is doing right and exactly where she is going wrong.

There is something intimate about watching her and Becky work in the mirror together like this. And if it weren’t in this scenario then Charlotte would find the whole thing rather… intriguing.

There is also something mighty impressive about watching Becky in this way. Charlotte is mesmerised at how quickly Becky’s mind has gone back into boxer mode. It is something else. Becky is a natural at it and Charlotte can see it in the flesh now for herself.

Charlotte had gotten the hang of the jab, cross and hook pretty easily. It is all about pivoting your feet and turning your whole body on all punches except the jab so that they connect with the bag in the right way. She is still struggling with the uppercut though. She is reaching too low and swinging too high on it, and her whole body momentum is all wrong.

“Break’s over,” Becky says. “Left uppercut again.”

Charlotte drops her bottle to the floor and makes her way over to the mirror. She is about to throw the punch again when Becky stops her, coming to stand behind her.

“Keep your elbow pointed down,” Becky says gently next to Charlotte’s shoulder, “drop your fist an’ remember your breathing, swing upwards as you exhale an’ get back into your stance.”

Charlotte does as she’s told, allowing Becky to rotate her hips slightly with her hands as she swings it upwards. The punch finally looks much better. She keeps the punch compact like it should be and as a result she is able to regain her stance like Becky said she would.

“Better!” Becky calls. “Again.”

“Becky, I don’t-”

“Again.”

-

“I’m not moving,” Charlotte complains with a huff. She is laying flat on her back on the rubber mat and she is practically stuck to it. “You’ll have to drag me out of here.”

“I mean I can arrange that,” Becky says, smiling down at Charlotte for a few moments before undoing her own hand wraps. She discards them onto the floor before taking a seat and taking Charlotte’s right hand. Becky takes her time at unwrapping everything so that Charlotte’s hands are now free. “You did great, baby.”

“You think?”

“I know.”

Becky lies down next to her with only their shoulders touching before Charlotte links their pinky fingers together like some sort of childish promise.

“You really enjoyed doing this every day?” Charlotte asks.

“I loved it,” Becky answers, “it’s what got me up in the mornin’s an’ rocked me to sleep at night. You just ain’t found your zone yet.”  
  
“My zone?”  
  
“The zone. You put the work in on the bag an’ you do all the jogging an’ all the strength training an’ it pushes you to exhaustion,” Becky says quietly, “but when you’re in the ring, when you’re in that zone puttin’ it all to use, you don’t feel your arms or legs anymore, you just exist in this motion. The zone. An’ when you’re in that zone you can do anythin’.”

“What was your fighting style like?”

“I didn’t really have one except bein’ aggressive,” Becky says. “Mick always told me it was best to mix things up, keep yourself as unpredictable as possible.”

“That way people couldn’t get a read on you?”

“Exactly,” Becky answers, nudging into Charlotte’s arm. “You’re catchin’ on quick.”

“Hmm, I have a good teacher.”

Becky hums in response and they lapse into a gentle silence. Charlotte’s breathing eventually evens out and for her first time at this she has done a damn good job.

“Becks?”

“Yeah?”

“You ever think about doing this?”

“How’d you mean?”

“Training or coaching people to box.”

“Honestly,” Becky starts, rolling onto her side and putting her head onto her hand. “That was my exit strategy… we all have one, don’t we? I wanted to retire after a successful career an’ become a trainer an’ help other people do the same.”

“I think you would be really good at it.”

“You have to say that.” Becky’s retort comes almost automatically. “You’re biased.”

Charlotte huffs out a laugh and then she grimaces at the soreness already settling into her muscles. “Maybe, but it doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”  
  
“It ain’t gonna happen now anyway so it doesn’t matter.”

“I wish I’d known you back then. I could have been there for you.”

Becky scoffs. “I’d have chased you away.”

“You could have tried,” Charlotte murmurs, “but I don’t shift that easily.”

Becky reaches out to touch Charlotte’s hand and there is a tiny red spread at one of her knuckles.

“It doesn’t hurt,” Charlotte says, seeing the concern in Becky’s face. “So don’t start worrying about it.”

“I’ll try not to.”

“Good.”

Charlotte moves so that her body covers Becky’s own and Becky can feel Charlotte’s heartbeat against her chest. Quick and light like the patter of something small and nimble. And when she pulls back to study Charlotte’s face, Becky can see the shine of Charlotte’s eye and the curve at her cheek where she’s smiling. Charlotte’s lips cover her own and they welcome Becky.

“I hate to break the moment,” Becky huffs, “but I’m kinda gross right now.”

“So am I,” Charlotte answers, “that is why we’re going to shower… together.”

When Charlotte gets to her feet and tugs on her hand, Becky can only follow.  
  


*****  
  


“Tyler is finished,” Charlotte says as soon as Becky has pressed her phone to her ear. “I just heard from my lawyer. He has no claim on anything and I don’t think he fancied going up against us.”

A smile breaks across Becky’s face as she shuts the laptop over in her office. She is all but finished for today. “No wonder… I wouldn’t fancy goin’ up against the Flair’s either.”

“Very funny,” Charlotte says, “I won’t bore you with all the details but I just wanted to tell you first, before anyone else catches wind of it.”

“And Paige?” Becky asks.

“She was happy to sell at the price we offered.”

“She really is an idiot,” Becky murmurs, “he’s just gonna be a leech with her too an’ do the exact same thing he did to you.”

“Pretty much,” Charlotte agrees, “but I find it difficult to feel sorry for her given everything.”

“I definitely don’t. Fuck her and him.” Becky looks down at her watch and then does a quick calculation in her head. “You free for an early drink to celebrate or nah?”

“I really should stay and do this report,” Charlotte says, but she can already feel herself giving in. “You’re going to Sasha’s aren’t you?”

“Course I am. Where else would I go?”

Laughing, Charlotte shakes her head. “Can I meet you there in an hour?”

Becky hums for a moment. “I’ll have you a drink waitin’.”

“It’s a date, love.” 

*****

“I really didn’t see you as a musical movie kind of person,” Charlotte says, reaching for the remote to turn the tv off. Her empty glass of wine sits on the table next to Becky’s beer bottle. “Is that your dirty little secret?”

Becky looks at her as if she is thinking about it, and then she gives Charlotte a big smile. “You tell anyone an’ I’ll deny it.”

“I won’t. It’s almost midnight, you know what that means.”

“Yeah,” Becky nods, “that it’s twelve o’clock.”

“That it’s officially your _birthday_,” Charlotte says in response.

“I told you no fuss.”

“There won’t be any fuss,” Charlotte answers, “just saying it’s your birthday.”

“I know.”

Charlotte yawns, resting her head on Becky’s chest as Becky rubs her hand over Charlotte’s back. It has been a long day at the end of a long week and Becky is glad of the peaceful evening together. They don’t spend a lot of time in Becky’s apartment but over the last few months she has noticed that a lot has changed in it.

There are little personal touches to it that only Charlotte could bring to Becky. There are always fresh flowers in her window that looks out onto the park, and the fruit bowl is now always full, and there are various fragranced candles dotted around her living room that Becky wouldn’t have ever dreamed of buying. The fridge has also become littered with photos: various prints of her and Charlotte and them with their friends.

Their photo together at Alcatraz sits proudly in the middle of them all. A reminder of the day everything really changed and they had literally no idea at the time. They were just two parallel lines that happened to cross and stay that way.

Becky really hadn’t seen any of it coming.

It is like being a solitary colour in a paint can. You are just this single plain colour. Dull. And then someone opens the lid and adds their colour to it. Maybe it is green or blue or red. And then it mixes and you end up this totally new and amazing colour together.

A combination that is beautiful and makes your chest ache.

Maybe this will end up being the best birthday Becky’s ever had. She has everything she wants and everything she could possibly need.

“I don’t like birthdays,” Becky admits. “But I have a feelin’ this one might be alright.”

Charlotte leans forward, until her face is just inches away from Becky’s, their lips almost touching and she widens her eyes. They are so clear they almost gleam in Becky’s direction. Then her lips do brush against Becky’s.

“I think you might be right. Happy birthday, Becky.”

-

Becky had been wrong about it being an alright birthday.

“I don’t like this, Charlotte.”

Becky tips her head back in an attempt to peek underneath the material that is currently covering her eyes. She tilts her head to the side too but that doesn’t work either. She’s still bathed in darkness even though it is the middle of the afternoon.

“Two more minutes, I promise.”

“You said this ten minutes ago.”

“Do you trust me?” Charlotte asks.

Becky huffs, scraping the toe of her sneaker against the concrete underneath her. “Don’t start this speech.”

“Just give me two seconds.”

Becky thinks she hears keys jangling close by and then Charlotte is standing behind her, both of her hands firmly on Becky’s shoulders. She feels Charlotte’s mouth at her ear and then she hears the audible swallow Charlotte gives before she talks.

“Before I remove the blindfold I need you not to freak out.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

“Give me one example when tellin’ someone not to freak out hasn’t made em’ freak out.”

Charlotte presses a whisper of a kiss onto Becky’s cheek and then Becky can finally see again. It takes a second for her eyes to adjust to the brightness of the afternoon, but when they eventually do she squints at the sight before her.

She recognises this place.

It’s an old warehouse that has been scolded into submission. It wears new windows and the brick has been sandblasted and then painted black. The whole building has been polished and transformed into a sparkling new place with a brand new look.

“Happy birthday, love.”

“Happy… ” Becky says, staring at the building. There is a squared space above the door that’s clearly meant for some sort of signage. Becky is struggling to connect all the dots. “What now?”

“I was stuck on what to get you,” Charlotte says quietly, “I know you didn’t want any fuss and there doesn’t have to be.”

“Charlotte-”

“You have a great thing going with Finn,” Charlotte tells her, “but this is what you should be doing. It’s a gym. It’s your gym.”

Becky looks away and Charlotte knows what is coming. She can see the subtle expression dim on Becky’s face: surprise and then annoyance. Charlotte had been expecting this though.

“I ain’t a charity case.”

Charlotte tilts her head up so that Becky can look at her. “This isn’t any charity case, I want to be your partner in this.”

Becky’s expression could be mistaken for blank, except there is a softening around her eyes that no one would notice if they didn’t know exactly what to look for. “You wanna be my partner in this?”

“I want to look after you but not because you need it. You can do that yourself and you’ve done a good job of it so far but you don’t need to be by yourself now,” Charlotte says quietly, “you have me.”

There is a quiet moment where Becky’s face washes vacant with confusion, like the cogs in her brain can’t turn quickly enough to take in the information in front of her. Then a grin creeps into her features, it soon stretches from one side to the other, illuminating her whole face.

“You really done this for me?” Becky asks.

“I’d do anything for you, Becks.”

Becky is not entirely sure if she believes in God or the afterlife or paradise or fate or that everyone is a small cog in the master plan machine. But she does believe in certain things.

She believes that everyone needs to find their own reason to live, their own reason to make things worthwhile no matter what the reason may be.

She believes that everyone needs something to drive them forward, something that makes them want to be brave in this big bad world, something that inspires their mind and nurtures their soul.

“Can we go in an’ check it out then?”

Charlotte reaches her hand out to pass the keys to Becky. “Lead the way.”

-

Becky is standing in the middle of a boxing ring for the first time since the accident and she feels small. She honest to God feels like a tiny irrelevance right here.

A paralyzing hurt spreads through her body like icy liquid. It travels through her veins but she never lets it reach her face. She lets out an understated sigh and looks around.

This isn’t how she saw this going.

Her hands tremble and her first instinct is to get the hell out of there, but her feet don’t cooperate and she stands rooted to the spot with Charlotte standing across from her. Becky has purposely kept her and Charlotte out of the ring during their boxing sessions together but it has been unavoidable today.

“Becks,” Charlotte murmurs, “you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just...” Becky shrugs. “It’s weird being back in a ring like this.”

“I can imagine that it is.”

“I… I never saw myself standin’ here again.”

“Never?” Charlotte asks.

“No. I didn’t think I ever could come back into a ring but here I am.”

Becky continues to stare at the opposite wall that is covered by a full length mirror just the way she likes it. She can imagine teaching and coaching in a space like this. She can see it play out in the mirror before her. Her heart wants out of her chest, it wants to beat free of its cage and it pounds like it is going to crack a rib.

Her feet finally move and Becky finds herself sitting down and crossing her legs. She smiles and lets out a long breath of air. Most of it is drawn from relief, from knowing that even though she is currently in the middle of a ring she is very much in control of things.

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to get back into the ring,” Becky says after a few quiet moments, the words somehow difficult to get out, and Charlotte moves so that she is sitting next to her. “It wasn’t that.”

“What was it?” Charlotte asks quietly.

“It was the lack of control,” Becky answers, “I’d never really thought about it before it happened. But I realised quickly that things can get pulled away from you an’ it’s nobody’s fault. You can’t blame yourself even if you really want to. You can’t blame anyone else either. It just is. Couldn’t get my head around it.”

“I understand that,” Charlotte says, “maybe not in the same way but I get it.”

“I know you do.” Becky moves her hand so it’s covering Charlotte’s own.

“If this is too much -”

“It’s not,” Becky interrupts, “I mean, buying someone a gym is too much but I’m alright. You really sure you wanna do this with me?”

Charlotte’s eyes brighten and the smile breaks across her face and Becky feels it in her chest. “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”

“I was thinkin’-”

“This could be dangerous,” Charlotte jokes, moving her hand to tangle their fingers together. “Tell me.”

“Maybe… maybe we could link it up with your soccer schools. I know you said you wanted to get back into that an’ now with Tyler gone…” Becky says, “can have a group learnin’ soccer with you an’ a group doin’ this with me.”

“I think that’s a great idea.”

“Yeah?”

“Becks, you know it is or you wouldn’t have mentioned it.”

The silence they slip into is somehow comforting and speaks for itself, it is peaceful in a way where Becky feels completely at home with Charlotte. Charlotte plays with Becky’s hand, moving her fingers up and over Becky’s knuckle, brushing against the old scar, scratching lightly against the back of Becky’s hand with her nails.

Becky lets her do it and she can feel her throat tightening.

“I’m not cryin’.”

“You’re a terrible liar, Becks.” Charlotte shifts to rub soothing circles on Becky’s back, letting Becky’s head fall onto her shoulder. “Why are you upset?”

Becky blinks through the tears, thinking how weird it is that Charlotte is probably the only person she can say this to. “I’m not upset… I’m scared. It’s stupid."

“It’s not stupid. You’re braver than anyone I know. You got guts, Becks.”

“Maybe we’re just not scared of the same thing.”

“This place is going to change lives,” Charlotte says, continuing to move her hand against the bottom of Becky’s back. “And that includes yours.”

Becky wonders if the best way to protect your heart is to trust someone enough to take care of it with you because she says, “Ours.”

Charlotte moves so that she is kneeling in front of where Becky is sitting. She takes both of Becky’s hands into her own before she pulls them up so they are standing. Everything about Charlotte is light – her touch, her long hair, her eyes and her hands as they dance around Becky’s waist.

She leans forward and presses a gentle kiss against Becky’s forehead. “You’re stuck with me now.”

“I think so.”

“For what it’s worth, I’ll share this about us,” Charlotte says quietly. “You and me, we aren’t practicing for the real thing.”

“No?”

“I have every intention of being with you for a long time. I don’t see any practice here.”

Everyone has their own shit going on at some point, Becky realises. Everyone is dented or damaged or broken or recovering, we just have to find that person who accepts that and the flaws that come with us and decide to love us anyway. The person who can take all the parts that you don’t like and show you that they are beautiful anyway, and when you find that person you can’t let them go.

“You’re stuck with me too, Charlie.” 

*****

There is still some light in the sky when they leave, and Becky is happy enough to go along with Charlotte’s suggestion of using her driver for the evening.

“So, y’think people will show up tonight?”

It is the third time that Becky has asked the exact same question in a different way, but this time Charlotte can feel her nerves. Becky’s right hand is shoved into the pocket of her trousers, like she has got a hold of something really important but Charlotte knows that it is a nervous thing. Her left hand is clasped tightly in Charlotte’s own.

“Considering we had to make a reserve list I think people will show up, yes.”

Becky smiles, tilting her head to look out the window and further ahead and the colours of the city blur against her skin. She chews on her bottom lip for a few minutes until they arrive at the venue. When the car stops it is bathed in silence and all Becky can hear is the unclipping of Charlotte’s seat belt.

“Becks, tonight will go great for you,” Charlotte says. “You’re well on your way to becoming a certified boxing coach, the staff you’ve hired to work with you are great and you deserve this.”

Becky runs her hand along her jawline, covering up the shy smile that flashes across her face. “Meetin’ you really has changed everythin’.”

“And meeting you has changed everything for me too. We’re a...”

“Team,” Becky offers.

Charlotte laughs and it eases everything inside of Becky. Charlotte reaches across with her thumb to swipe away the frown in Becky’s brow. “This doesn’t suit you tonight. You ready?”

“I think so?”

Charlotte reaches a hand around Becky’s neck so that she can scratch lightly at the sensitive skin there and Becky resists the urge to laugh. Charlotte tilts Becky’s head down and then she kisses her. It is slow and soft, comforting in a way that sometimes words just aren’t. Becky feels long lashes flutter against her cheek and the gentle transfer of Charlotte’s lipstick against her own lips.

Becky decides she will be fine tonight with Charlotte by her side. 

-

Charlotte finds Becky where she left her twenty minutes ago. Becky is leaning against the bar with a near empty glass in her hand and her earlier worries have all but disappeared. Becky looks happy and relaxed and Charlotte sees a trace of smile on her face as she approaches.

It is amazing, Charlotte thinks, how your brain can focus on a single person in a room stacked full of people.

Holding up her free hand in surrender, Becky smiles fully now, her dark eyes the complete opposite of Charlotte’s own. “Alright, you were right. I didn’t need to worry about tonight.”

Charlotte just looks at her with an amused smile that makes Becky wonder how the hell she ever got so lucky. Then Charlotte leans down to brush the smile away with a kiss almost thoughtlessly, like they have done this a thousand times before in public.

“Finn is looking for you,” Charlotte says when she pulls away. “I think he wants to talk to you about something.”

A frown flashes over Becky’s face. “What about?”

It had been difficult to hand her resignation over to Finn. The silence that had filled his office had been gutting and at first Becky thought he was going to rip the paper up and throw shreds of it into the bin in front of her.

But he hadn’t, of course he hadn’t, he had stood and pulled her in for a hug and told her that he was damn proud of her.

Becky hadn’t cried though. Okay, she did, but whatever.

“No idea, love,” Charlotte says, “he just said he was trying to find you.”

“An’ then you found me first.”

“I always do,” Charlotte answers, taking the now empty glass out of Becky’s hand. “Go find him and I’ll have a drink waiting on you both getting back.”

Becky does as she is told, weaving in and out of the crowd, shaking a few hands on the way through. She gets huge hugs from Sasha and Bayley too. She is just about to reach the door that leads to the outside area when she feels a hand tighten on her shoulder. She turns and finds herself face to face with the person she is trying to find.

“Lookin’ for me?” Finn asks, a grin plastered over his face.

“Charlotte said you were lookin’ for me more like.”

“I was,” Finn answers, he opens the door to outside and lets Becky step outside first.

The night sky is dark and low, the air cold enough that Becky can feel it in her lungs when she breathes in. The clouds are sporadic, chaotic where they choose to be thick or sparse.

Finn produces a small, sweetly wrapped gift and puts in Becky’s hand. “I wasn’t sure when to give you this, but now seems as good a time as any.”

“What is it?”

“Open it and see.”

Becky makes quick work of the wrapping paper. It reveals a white box and she lifts the lid of it. It looks like an old-fashioned pocket watch, but when she picks it up she can tell that it is modern. It is black and sleek and the face of it is mechanical with moving gears.

“It’s a stopwatch,” Becky mutters. The second hand trembles as it ticks forward. Becky likes the look of it. Though she isn’t exactly sure what the purpose of it is.

“I remember you always goin’ on about Mick and his ‘_bloody stopwatch’_ when we were younger,” Finn says with a shrug, “I figured you needed your own one now for your own place.”

Becky wavers.

Hot tears burn at the back of her eyes and threaten to scorch her cheeks on the way down but no words come to the surface of her mouth. She doesn’t think any words will suffice the gratitude she feels towards Finn.

For everything. For being her best friend. For giving her a second chance at a career. For always having her back even when it would probably have been easy to lose the plot with her. For giving her San Francisco and everything that has came with it.

“Is it alright then?” Finn asks.

Becky makes a weird strangled sound at the back of her throat, and then coughs, loudly, in what Finn belatedly realises is a terrible attempt to cover up the tears.

“Thanks, Finn, I -”

Finn wraps her up in the strong embrace of his arms. There is the hug that still gives you plenty space to breathe; then there is the tight hug of your best friend that lets you know that they are with you and will support you through it all.

“Becky.” Finn pauses, pulling back so that he can put his hands on her shoulders and face her. “I’m gonna say this as quickly as I can so we both don’t cry. You deserve all of this. I’m so fuckin’ proud of you. You’re your own person and now your own boss an’ you got a woman who adores you.”

“She does.”

“An’ there will always be a spot in my company for you,” Finn says, “but I don’t think you need it. Now can we go dance or somethin’, I have some women to impress in there.”

“Longs it ain’t mine,” Becky replies, her words filtered through a laugh.

-

Becky is tired.

The air is colder now as she stands on the balcony and she feels Charlotte press against her back, her chin resting in the crook of Becky’s neck. Becky supposes that the cold gives them a reason to draw closer to each other, to feel the natural warmth people are born to give to others.

Charlotte’s lips paint a trail of lazy kisses on Becky’s neck, settling just behind her right ear. Becky feels at ease with all that is in and around her.

“I’m super proud of you, you know,” Charlotte whispers. “And before you start, I know this is _our_ project but, I just want you to know that. Tonight went great and you did great.”

“I told you once,” Becky starts, “that maybe we should just settle for bein’ content instead of tryin’ to be happy all the time.”

“I remember.”

Becky has a tickling of nerves in her stomach, excited and hopeful. “I can’t remember ever bein’ this content.”

Charlotte meets her half way, settling her hands on Becky’s lower back to pull her a little closer as she kisses her, it is soft and everything Becky wants from it. Charlotte sighs into her mouth and Becky feels the warmth spread like the roots of a tree, burrowing underneath the soil to take up permanent residence.

“Y’know, you make me want things that I’d forgotten I even wanted.”

“Like what?”

“Well, I have the gym and everythin’ an’ now I have you too. If I can keep you then I’m good to go, cause I deserve you.”

“I think I deserve you too.”

“I know,” Becky answers quietly. “My dad told me once that everybody needs a somebody else. I’m an everybody so surely I get a somebody? Guess that somebody is you.”

*****

Golden and red hues form the colour of the leaves that lay scattered around her feet. There are murmurs of other people around her and blurry images on the periphery of her vision.

A slight breeze whispers along the trees and teases more leaves into releasing their tentative hold. Deeply engrossed in the email she is replying to on her phone, Charlotte doesn’t notice Sasha sit next to her until she is bumping into Charlotte’s arm.

“How long do you think we have before we get dragged up to play?” Sasha asks.

A moment of wordless communication passes between them before Charlotte looks on into the park where Becky and Bayley are kicking a ball back and forth between them. “Probably about five minutes.”

Sasha exhales. “Ugghh. It’s too cold for this.”

“They are happy,” Charlotte soothes, “let them be.”

“I was happy in my bed. Warm and comfortable.”

“It was midday!”

“Whatever,” Sasha says, “how are things with the new apartment?”

Charlotte crosses her right leg over and clasps her knee in her hands. “Becky has been super busy with the gym so it has been a pain in the ass moving everything across but we made it.”

Charlotte looks around the park again and Becky finds her with her eyes a moment later, motioning Charlotte to come here with her finger until Charlotte signals five minutes with her own hand.

“Your own place together.” Sasha lets out a low whistle. “Look at you two growing and shit.”

Charlotte thinks Sasha’s face looks flushed with happiness for her and Becky. “It’s strange, isn’t it? How everything works.”

“I guess,” Sasha shrugs, “you just meet someone and it fits. Maybe it doesn't make a lot of sense but it fits and that’s all that matters.”

The weight that has been lifted off Charlotte’s shoulders because of Becky has been remarkable. She walks taller. Her stride is lighter, more carefree. She laughs more – all the time really – and she smiles so much that she wonders how Becky doesn’t get sick of it.

“I think you’re right about that.”

“I mean, Charlotte Flair is dating _my_ best friend,” Sasha says. “Hell, Charlotte Flair is _my _friend now. Never saw any of this coming.”

Becky shouts on them again and Charlotte holds up two fingers in response this time to signal two minutes. Becky shoots her a glare that Charlotte knows is a playful warning.

She really isn’t going to get away with not playing soccer on a cold Saturday morning with the woman she loves and her two friends. Shit could be worse though.

“Becky is… surprisingly good at this kind of thing,” Charlotte says when Becky goes back to her game with Bayley.

“What kind of thing?”

“Relationship things. She is a natural. It’s weird. You wouldn’t think it but she is, I still can’t get my head around it.”

“She’s shit at relationship stuff,” Sasha argues with a laugh, “and only good because it’s you.”

“What?”

“You’ve probably been shit at it too,” Sasha explains, “but only because it’s never been with her until now. You two are supposed to be together, get married, do the whole thing. I know it.”

Charlotte considers what Sasha has just said for a second. “That… makes a lot of sense.”

“Doesn’t it?” Sasha stands, holding her hand out so that she can pull Charlotte up onto her feet. “Let’s get this over with before they have to drag our asses out there.”

Becky greets her with a quick kiss and Charlotte supposes that she could think of much worse ways to spend a Saturday morning.

-  
  
When the tiredness on Sunday morning finally lifts, Charlotte finds her head on Becky’s shoulders and Becky is stroking her hair slowly, patiently.

“Becky?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think we’ll ever get married?”

Becky’s breath catches, and then Charlotte feels Becky’s smile against her forehead.

“Y’mean to each other, right?”

Charlotte tickles a spot just above Becky’s rib cage. “Yes. Obviously.”

“I’d like to think so, Charlie.” 

*****

The clear sky makes the early night feel colder. Charlotte has zipped up her jacket fully so that some of her words sound muffled into the fabric of it.

“I don’t know why you’re making yourself sick over this,” Sasha says. “You know she will say yes. You still have the ring, right?”

“Of course I have it,” Charlotte snaps into the phone, relaxing when she pats the small pouch against her left hip for the umpteenth time. She has become paranoid about leaving it in the apartment in case Becky finds it or she accidentally reveals it.

It is ridiculous.

She has had the ring for two weeks now. It is a miracle that she hasn’t asked Becky already because the question crosses her mind at least ten times a day but the more she thinks about it the more anxious she becomes.

Charlotte isn’t afraid of much these days. She doesn’t particularly like snakes or spiders, but she is not really scared of anything. She can’t remember a time where her anxiety has gotten in the way of her basic functioning, like her ability to think straight or her appetite.

She has got to do it soon, that she does know. It’s just… she doesn’t know _how _she should do it. She knows Becky is a sweet and simple kind of person but Charlotte doesn’t want their engagement story to be based in their bloody apartment. She also knows a surprise engagement party or dinner would be a total disaster and Becky would absolutely hate it.

Charlotte has the woman and she has the ring, now she just needs to find and hold her fucking nerve.

“How about the park?” Sasha suggests. “That’s simple.”

“Do you think she knows?” Charlotte asks. “That I have the ring I mean.”

Sasha exhales. “Nooo, we’ve been over this. Get it together, Charlotte!”

“I’m trying!” Charlotte answers, ignoring the look she gets from someone walking next to her. “The park isn’t the worst idea, I guess.”

“Jeez, thanks. You two have been together for like two years and you’re both still idiots over each other.”

“I just need to do it.”

“You do, rip the bandaid off,” Sasha says, “just do it and be clear about it.”

Charlotte thinks Sasha makes it sound more like a business proposition than asking someone to spend the rest of their life with you.

Usually Charlotte would give some sarcastic comment back about it but she can’t be bothered tonight. She is only out for a bottle of wine and knows this conversation can’t be too long.

“Charlotte, you know Becky is going to say yes.”

“Do I?” Charlotte asks, and her voice is actually, legitimately bordering on frantic. “Because you know what Becky can be like, Sasha.”

“Yeah, I do,” Sasha answers, “I also know that when you two got together almost two years ago that this would be the outcome.”

“Oh God. Two years.”

“And she was impossible back then,” Sasha says, “but I don’t think Becky has ever given you any reason to doubt her since that.”

“No,” Charlotte agrees, “she hasn’t.”

“Then get it over with so I know what damn bridesmaid dress I’m wearing!”

*****

Charlotte is nervous.

And she knows that Becky can tell.

The cool draught of air whips over the waves, bringing a taste of the ocean with it. There isn’t anywhere in the world Becky loves more than the ocean – it calms her and it soothes her, and she always looks happy when they are here. Charlotte had brought her onto this hiking trail about a year ago and now they come frequently because it opens up into this little labyrinth of stones and there is a perfect ledge to sit on to watch the sunset together with the bridge in the distance.

Charlotte thinks she was a goner since the first day her and Becky watched the waves at Alcatraz. Since then her life has been a blur of her and Becky. They have friends, of course, and they manage not to live in each other’s pockets too much.

And sure, they have their moments like everyone else. Sometimes they argue and don’t speak for hours, and sometimes it can be over the most trivial of things. Sometimes Charlotte has stupid jealously issues and sometimes Becky can be moody beyond belief so that it is like talking to a brick wall.

But they work, and they fit, and it has just always been so fucking good between them since they got together for real.

Even their families get along – Becky’s parents visit as frequently as they can and they have both been over to Ireland on various trips over the last year. Charlotte had soaked that up with so much enthusiasm that Becky had jokingly suggested that they should stay there and Charlotte had almost agreed on the spot.

“You wanna tell me why you’re actin’ weird with me?” Becky murmurs. “I love this hike as much as you but… there’s somethin’ not right.”

The orange in the sky stretches far and wide, the colour of fire. It is the reflection of the sunset, the promise of a rising sun that will come tomorrow after the night has had its say and the land has rested.

“I thought I knew what love was all about, that I understood its importance and its depth and the happiness it brings.” Charlotte sighs – a small sound of amusement as she continues to look out at the view in front of them. “I wasn’t even close. Everything pales in comparison to you, to us. And usually just when I think I can’t love you anymore than I do, you do something and it grows even more.”

“Are you alright?” Becky asks, “has something happened?”

Becky has realised over the past two years that she doesn’t need to be there to fix everything for Charlotte. She just needs to be there and love her. Even when it doesn’t seem like Charlotte needs a reminder of how Becky feels – she does. Becky doesn’t forget to show and tell her either.

“Cause if anyone is givin’ you hassle-”

“No one is giving me any hassle.”

“Then what-”

“You should marry me, Becks.”

“What?”

“You should marry me,” Charlotte says again. “There’s nothing in this world – my work, my friends, not a single other person – who is what you are to me.”

Blushing usually isn’t a problem for Becky, but what she does is go as red as a beetroot and radiate like a hot pot. You could probably cook a three course meal on her face.

“Are you serious?” Becky whispers, her eyes fluttering closed – but really, she should have expected this.

“Yes.” Charlotte moves so that she is kneeling, leaning back on her heels to venture into her pocket. She fumbles around for a second until she finds it and she can feel Becky’s gaze on her. “You are it for me. So… will you?”

Becky smiles at her, soft and warm, her hand coming up to cup the edge of Charlotte’s jaw, thumb swiping on Charlotte’s bottom lip. Charlotte nuzzles closer to her until she can bump their noses together, and Becky smiles wider.

It’s okay to cry during moments like these, Becky thinks. So she lets the emotion well at her eyes and then lets it take a stroll down her cheek.

“Yes, course I’ll marry you,” Becky says quietly, “you’re it for me too.”

Love isn’t all about romance. Love is about truth. You experience it when you accept the complete truth about the other person, and that includes both the good and the bad, and they accept these things about you too, and you find that you really still want to be with them.

To know the worst about someone else and still want them with everything you have. To know that they feel the same way about you too. It is a sense of security and power and truth. And once you get there with that person, the romance and the truth that appears isn’t really that overwhelming.

Instead, it is invulnerable and, if you’re really lucky, forever.

-

“Thank you for showing me that it was worth taking the risk, love.” Charlotte drops her head until her lips are against Becky’s and finishes, “it feels good to win again.”

“An’ win big?”

Charlotte smiles against Becky’s lips and then kisses her again, lingering for a moment. “And win big.”

“Massive. I can’t believe you proposed to me earlier.” Becky holds her hand up so that she can look at the ring – it is simple but something she knows Charlotte has put a lot of thought into. “You’re the best experience I’ve ever had, y’know that?”

“It still surprises me how deep you are at times.”

“What?” Becky asks, voice hushed with tiredness.

“Everything you do. How you live, how you love, how you work, it all runs deep because you give it everything. It means something to you.” Charlotte reaches out and takes Becky’s hand into her own, tangling their fingers together as she rolls off Becky and turns onto her side so that their foreheads can touch. “Teach that to our kids.”

“I will.”

“Good.”

Wishes don’t always come true in the way that you think they will. Nothing is ever going to be perfect because nothing ever is, but love will come because it always does.

There isn’t any other reason for it to exist.


End file.
